No Armor Against Fate (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Birth

Thora twisted and writhed in the bed, her body arching, then relaxing as the pain receded, briefly. Sweat stood out on her face as she tried to regroup, to prepare herself before the next contraction struck. But there wasn't time, and a moan was wrenched from her against her will as the pain took over again.

Dimly she was aware of the warm hand in hers, and she clung to it, no longer even noticing the unfamiliar gold band on the third finger.

When the labor had begun, Alistair had started to take the ring off, wanting for this one last moment to have it be just them again, but Thora had stopped him. "If I let you take your ring off for me," she had said, touching the chain at his throat, "will you take this off for her?" Their eyes had met, both of them knowing that however much they pretended, a barrier had been introduced that had never been there before. So he kept the ring on, even if it cut into his finger as she clung to his hand while the pains wracked her body.

He and Leliana and Oghren had kept Thora on her feet as long as they could in the early stages of the labor, letting Wynne rest as much as possible. None of them had really talked about it, but they were all concerned about how it would go. Judging by the size of Thora's belly, the baby was larger than most dwarven babies, and the ever-present concerns about the effect of the taint added to that made the atmosphere in the keep very tense. They all suspected Wynne's talents would be needed at their freshest toward the end of the labor.

Eventually the pain had become too intense, and Thora had taken to her bed. A numbing spell had taken the edge off the pain for a brief while, but it had worn off now and Wynne was afraid to try another one, knowing she would need Thora alert when the pushing stage arrived.

Now Wynne checked Thora's progress. "It could be any time now," she said calmly, trying to keep her concern off her face. "Let me know if you feel the urge to push."

Thora nodded, unable to get breath enough to speak as the pains arrived on top of each other. She clung to Alistair's hand like a lifeline, and he did his best not to let her see how afraid he was. He'd never seen anything like this before and he didn't see how she could endure much more of it. Not to mention that he hoped Wynne would have a healing spell left over at the end of all this, because his hand felt broken in multiple places from the strength of his love's grip.

"How much longer can this go on, Wynne?" he asked, as quietly as he could. The mage simply looked at him, shaking her head once, and he shut his mouth.

"Wynne," Thora gasped, her eyes widening.

"Do you feel it?" the mage asked. Thora nodded. "All right, here's what I want you to do: take a deep breath, and bear down. Try to keep it up until I count to 10." So they did that. Again, and again, and again, for hours. But Wynne couldn't tell that Thora was making any progress at all. She straightened at last, her eyes meeting Thora's anguished ones. Wynne didn't want to answer the mute question she saw there. She sighed. "Nothing is happening. You either have to push harder, or ... we have to do something else."

Thora's head, soaked with sweat, sank back onto the pillows. Push harder? She had nothing left. And the pain was unremitting now. She felt a cool cloth wiping the sweat off her face, and she did her best to smile at Leliana, seeing the worry in the bard's blue eyes. Alistair, on the other side of her, opened the hand she'd been clutching his with, nuzzling her palm. Probably to avoid looking at her, she thought. Alistair's face was like an open book.

"What can you do?" he asked Wynne quietly.

"I could try and ... cut the baby out," Wynne said reluctantly, not meeting Thora's eyes.

"Have you done it before?" Leliana asked.

"Yes ... but never successfully." Now she did look at Thora. "I don't think you would live through it."

Alistair smoothed his hand over Thora's brow, looking at her. They had talked about the potential for this kind of situation—rather, Thora had talked while Alistair loudly protested that nothing of the kind was likely to come up. She had made it clear that if it came down to her or the baby, the baby was to be the priority. Alistair looked deeply into her eyes now. "Can you push harder, love? Or do we—" He broke off. He simply couldn't finish that sentence.

Looking up, Thora met Wynne's eyes, both of them frantically trying to think what they could do that might help. At last, Thora made a feeble attempt to sit up. Alistair tried to keep her lying down, murmuring something about saving her strength, but Wynne's eyes gleamed. "Alistair, help her! You, too, Leliana. Let's see if we can get her to sit up, maybe the baby will have a slightly easier time." They helped Thora up, scooting her down the bed, so that she sat on the very end. The pain was excruciating, but Wynne, kneeling down, looked relieved. "I think I can see the baby's head. Can you push?"

Thora sighed, leaning back against Alistair's strong shoulder, right behind her as it was meant to be. "Alistair," she whispered with difficulty.

"My love?"

"Lie to me."

For a moment, he was confused, then he understood. Cradling her beloved form to him, he whispered into her ear, "My darling, as soon as you deliver this baby, you and I will spend the rest of our lives together. We'll live in Amaranthine as Warden Commander and her devoted Lieutenant, and there will be no Calling—we'll live a full lifespan together ..." He continued in that vein, holding her and pouring into her ear all sorts of delightful lies about their future together. Just hearing his voice and pretending that all the things he was saying were true gave Thora new energy, as she imagined the warm and loving life she would be bringing their baby into. With everything that was in her, with all the strength he gave her, she bore down.

Wynne let out a delighted shriek. "I see the baby! Do it again!"

Leliana gripped Thora's other hand as the dwarf relaxed for a moment against the strong chest of her lover, listening to the sweet falsehoods he was weaving for her. Thora took a deep breath and pushed again. She felt Alistair's arms tighten around her, and she gave it everything she had left. A warmth spread through her as she dimly heard Wynne chanting something. She felt an excruciating tearing sensation and then an incredible feeling of relief. Nearly spent, she sagged back against Alistair's shoulder, her eyes closed, listening.

And then it came, the squalling. Quiet at first, but growing louder. Alistair caught his breath.

"Is the baby—?" Thora asked faintly, afraid to open her eyes. "Not ... not ..." She couldn't finish.

"Not darkspawn," Wynne said quietly, but Thora could hear the happiness in her friend's voice. She opened her eyes and took a look at the little pink face, open in outrage as Wynne toweled it off. "It's a girl, my dears," the mage said, near tears.

"Pay up," Thora murmured.

Alistair grinned. "Gladly." He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his whole life. He held out his arms and Wynne laid the swaddled baby in them. Alistair cuddled both his girls close to him, reveling in this moment. All four of them gazed at the little face. Her hair was dark and her eyes blue, like most newborns, but the face ...

"It's a good thing you already decided to acknowledge her, Alistair," Leliana said. "Because I think you'd have to." There was no mistaking those features—the Theirin nose, the shape of the mouth and eyes. She was a perfect little miniature of her father. Thora was delighted. Alistair was flummoxed. He had never expected to see himself stamped so clearly on another person.

Wynne, nearing exhaustion, finished the cleanup and healing with Leliana's help. They both stood, looking at the happy family in front of them. "Have you thought of a name for this lovely little one?"

Thora looked down at the tiny baby in Alistair's arms. "We thought about it," she said, "and decided to name her after our two favorite people. Her name is Anawyn." Leliana and Wynne looked at each other, and the bard burst into tears. Wynne sniffed and swiped at her eyes.

"My dears," she said, looking at them affectionately. Then she gave a great yawn. "I believe I need to find my bed before I collapse. Will you be all right?" She looked at Thora.

The dwarf nodded. She caught Wynne's hand in hers. "Thank you, my friend."

"It was one of the greatest pleasures of my life," the mage said. Leliana accompanied the mage as she left the room, and after feeding the baby for the first time, Thora, too, fell asleep. Alistair was left the only one awake, not wanting to miss a precious moment with the miracle in his arms.