A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

Maybe

23 Solace, 9:44

"Are you sure we can't take him?" Antonia asked for at least the fourteenth time. She looked down at the sleeping baby in the crib, noting with some sorrow how long he already was, how his wisps of blond hair were already filling in and making him look like a little boy.

"Positive." Cullen drew her firmly away from the crib. "We've been over this, love. We don't know how long this Exalted Council will take, we don't know what type of snake pit we're walking into, and I would far rather not have Vel there to be used as a pawn or a threat. Or gussied up in those ridiculous Orlesian baby clothes Vivienne keeps sending." He gave an exaggerated shudder.

In the crib, Vel sighed and turned on his side. Antonia supposed she couldn't really think of him as a baby any longer; he had passed his first birthday several weeks back. They had named him Garrick Trevelyan Rutherford, after Cullen's father, but it seemed like such a mouthful it had been shortened to Vel early on. He was his father's son, from the golden curls to the careful study of any tricky problem before attempting it. Only in the last few days had he been willing to take real steps, and Antonia found herself nearly weeping at the idea that she'd be away for whatever the next milestone would be.

"We'll be fine, my lady, and so will you," Roya said encouragingly, coming forward to lay a gentle hand on Vel's back. "And if you don't leave before he wakes up, I'll have a screaming baby on my hands and you'll never be able to tear yourself away."

From the stairs, where he was watching with an indulgent smile, his arms folded over his chest, Jared spoke up. "Roya and I'll have things in hand for the young nipper here, don't you worry, sis. Let's see ... I can teach him to say dirty words, and suck on chess pieces ..." He chuckled at the indignation on Cullen's face.

Only half listening to him, Antonia sighed. "You're right. I know you're right." She blinked back her tears. She hated the idea of this Exalted Council anyway, hated it tearing her away from her work and her family, but Cullen was right—at Halamshiral, their son would be ammunition for anyone who wanted to take a shortcut to hurting them. Reluctantly she turned away from the baby, picking up her battered knapsack and slinging it over her shoulder. Phoenix was waiting for her at the top of the stairs; Lucky would remain behind to help Roya and Jared keep an eye on the baby, an agreement the dog wasn't entirely happy with, but Cullen had insisted.

"You know he'll be spoiled rotten by the entire keep while we're gone," she muttered to Cullen, who chuckled.

"No doubt."

Josephine was waiting for them in the courtyard, as was the Iron Bull. Ambassador and spymaster worked fairly well together, the Bull having taken his new task by the horns, as he liked to say. Dorian had left for Tevinter several months back, and Antonia hadn't wanted to pry into the two men's arrangements. A recent letter from Dorian indicated she might see him at Halamshiral, and similar missives had come from Blackwall and Varric. Sera and Cole were still nominally part of the Inquisition, although it was hard to tell where either of them was at any given moment, and Vivienne would certainly be awaiting them in Orlais. Leliana and Thomas Amell had gone into hiding, whereabouts unknown. Some days Antonia envied them their imagined peace and quiet.

"I cannot imagine Cassandra as the Divine," Josephine said, as they turned their horses toward the mountain road.

"No, I can't, either." Cullen caught Antonia's rein as she turned in her saddle to look back at the keep.

"She'll look like a disaster in one of those hats," the Iron Bull added.

They were all looking at Antonia, and she blinked back more tears. What a simpleton they must all think her, having such trouble tearing herself away. Her emotions had been running very high in recent weeks.