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Dragon Age Camp NaNoWriMo April Edition 2018

Summary:

A collection of one-shots featuring my canon characters and pairings.

Gwyneth Surana/King Alistair
Marian Hawke/Fenris
Fen'lath Lavellan/Solas

There will be angst, feels, laughter, and tags will be added as more gets written from the list of 30 1-word prompts I have.

Thank you to IncreasingLight for beta-ing for me!

Notes:

Gwyneth Surana waits with Alistair while Elissa Cousland gives birth to his first child

Chapter 1: Camp NaNo Day 1 Prompt - First

Chapter Text

Gwyneth held Alistair’s hand as they stared at the door to Elissa’s chamber, ensuring she stood at what was considered an appropriate distance from him all the same. She’d been shooed out by Solona not ten minutes prior to have the official, approved witnesses escorted in. When the preparations for the birth had begun, Gwyn had insisted that she not be on the list. For this first child with Elissa, she couldn’t trust herself not to keep the impartial, unaffected mask on in front of others.

 

What she had actually said to Alistair was that they needed witnesses that couldn’t be accused of undue bias towards the royal couple. Bann Alfstanna, Arlessa Isolde, the Grand Cleric, Bann Ceorlic’s wife and Delilah Howe were the ladies in attendance to see the birth of the royal heir that Elissa was laboring to bring into the world. Gwyn’s heart hurt. She held onto the fact that this was not in fact Alistair’s first child, but the jealousy and envy still ate at her. This was one of the times she was happy that the Blightsong from the Taint drowned out demon whispers, because Maker, would she be tempted right now.

 

Growing up in the Circle, she’d come to expect that she’d never have children of her own. She knew this. Even joining the Wardens, she knew there was little chance of it happening well before Alistair had told her of the Warden issues with having children. Sweet Maker, that didn’t stop her from wanting to be the one who had him shifting from foot to foot, twitching, and trying to keep himself from pacing while worry pinched his brows.

 

With the hand Alistair didn’t have in a death grip, Gwyn covered her mouth to yawn. She had been woken by a maid shortly before first bell to come attend Elissa, so she was still in her nightrail and robe, and her hair was down in a braid over one shoulder, propriety relaxed in the face of the importance of what was happening. Sixth bell had sounded not long before Alistair had arrived, and she had only got to bed shortly after ten bells the night prior.

 

Her duties throughout the night had been to wipe Elissa’s brow, and help her walk up and down the hall of the royal wing until her contractions were at the stage where Solona was needed. Much of their walk had consisted of Gwyn consoling Elissa. She had cried with her friend and agreed that Lady Eleanor should have been the one to walk with her to help, as well as Lady Oriana. Although she had never met Fergus’s wife, from what Elissa had told her, she had been a fine woman and it would have been a comfort for her to have her mother and sister-in-law there to offer advice and support.

 

The first fingers of dawn were creeping into the hall, and Elissa’s groans and cries were becoming louder and more urgent through the door. Alistair was starting to shake. “Maker, how much longer will this be? What if… what if Elissa dies like my mother?”

 

“She won’t, Ali. Elissa is strong, and Solona won’t let her go without a fight.” Gwyn rubbed the back of his hand in reassurance, “Sit down before you fall over, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

 

“I’m not ready for this, Gwyn.” He let her guide him to the bench opposite Elissa’s chamber door, and almost collapsed onto it. “I don’t know anything about being a father. What do I do?”

 

“Your best, Ali. It’ll be just like learning to be king. Elissa has the most experience, but you’ll figure out how to do things your own way.” She settled next to him on the bench and nodded to the guard who walked past on his patrol.

 

“I just want to be a better father than mine.” It was almost a whisper, and Gwyn had to strain to hear it over the raising cry coming from Elissa’s room.

 

“I can guarantee you will be. You’ll be there for your child, and you won’t let them question their place or whether you love them or not.”

 

Alistair gave her a small, panicky grin. “You’re hired as my personal pep-talker.”

 

“Accepted.” Gwyn smiled, then turned to the door with wide eyes as the cries of a newborn child came, muffled, through the wood.

 

Alistair shot up, and was across the hall in three strides. He threw open the door and let out a terrified and lost bark of, “How is the queen?”

 

A flustered Isolde tried to shoo him out before Bann Alfstanna snapped, “Shut it, Isolde. He’s worried about his wife and his babe. Let him come in and meet his daughter.”

 

Daughter.

 

Alistair had a little girl. Gwyn stayed on the bench. She could not leave and return to bed until she was dismissed by either the Queen, or more likely in this case, Alistair. She watched the sunlight creep across the carpet, then looked up when she heard Alistair softly call, “Gwyn.”

 

He emerged from Elissa’s chamber with a small bundle of blankets in his arms, and a look of complete awe and adoration on his face. Even as the ache in her chest grew, and the envy made it harder for her not to weep, she covered her lips with her fingers, because it was a beautiful moment. The early morning sunlight caught in his hair, and lit the blanket so it glowed in his arms. It still did not compare to the light in his eyes as he gazed on his daughter’s face.

 

She stood when he stopped in front of her. He looked up and smiled at her, tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes, “I’d like for you to meet someone, Gwyn. This is Moira Eleanor Theirin. My daughter.”

 

Gwyn moved the fold of fabric shielding the baby’s face from her out of the way with careful fingers, and breathed out, “She’s beautiful, Ali.”

 

A soft tuft of Elissa’s auburn hair topped Moira’s head, but the shape of her little chin and her ears, and the little frown on her face, that was Alistair through and through. Alistar stepped just a bit closer, looking up from the baby, voice low, “I’m so sorry we couldn’t have this together, Gwyn.”

 

“I know, Ali.” The exhaustion was wearing her control thin, and she knew she needed to get to her chambers if she hoped to make it before she broke down.

 

“Do you want to hold her?” He adjusted the baby, preparing to hand her over.


“I’ve been up since first bell, Ali-love. I’m afraid I’d drop her. Do you mind if I retire?”

 

“Of course, Gwyn. I’d best get Moira to her cradle and check with Solona to see what needs to be done for Elissa.”

 

Gwyn stepped back to the proper distance, and curtsied. With all the titles piled onto her as Chancellor, Hero, Warden-Commander, Teyrna, and Arlessa, her own chambers were in the royal wing of the palace, so the walk was not far. The Chantry bells had just started clanging in celebration when she entered her rooms. Holding on with the last threads of her self-control, she shooed her maids out. “The King bade me to sleep since I was up with the Queen all night. I’m still in my nightclothes, and won’t require you until later. Go, celebrate! We have a princess.”

 

The smile stayed plastered in place until the door to her bedchamber shut. She threw the bolt, then pressed her forehead to the smooth, polished wood. All that she had held in before came rushing to the surface and pouring down her cheeks, shaking her slim shoulders with racking sobs.