Kieran snored softly against Natia's chest, snug in the wrap she'd gifted Morrigan. The length of fabric had probably consisted of more material than Morrigan's entire outfit, before she'd persuaded her they ought to trade their coin for hides and furs. It was getting colder, and even Kieran had a little fennec fur cap over a head of raven hair that seemed to have appeared overnight. It was as beautiful as his mother's.
Or perhaps his father's, Natia thought, wondering if Loghain would ever have the good fortune to meet his son. She doubted it. Kieran had all the family he needed right here, for now at least. Perhaps one day, when they no longer had to hide, he could meet Rica and Endrin - it would be good to have someone around his own age to play with.
Morrigan slept, too, the flames casting odd shapes about her tent. She needed all the rest she could get and Natia was happy to take the babe from her wife once he'd had his fill of milk. Natia couldn't fathom how Morrigan had survived those first few weeks without her, when neither she nor Kieran could hope for more than two consecutive hours of sleep. It was impossible not to be in awe of the woman.
Natia paced back and forth by the campfire, ensuring Kieran would not stir just yet. Her feet ached from the day's travel, but she could manage just a little longer. Things weren't easy, but Natia had known what she was signing up for when she'd stepped through that Eluvian. She wanted to be a part of Morrigan's life once again, and that included Kieran now. She wondered what he'd look like a year from now. What his voice would be like. What kind of person he'd become. What kind of life he'd live. And then she thought of Morrigan.
Not a boring one, that was for sure.