So that left Fiona and him alone. Now he wasn’t sure what to think. She gestured to the steps that led up to the throne and they sat down on them. For a moment they were simply silent, and the only sound was the crackling of the torches nearby. She looked beautiful in the firelight. The sunburn had left her with freckles, he noticed, but he didn’t see any sign of the taint on her neck or her hands. Had it not spread?
“How are you?” she finally asked him. The way she looked at him with concern told him the question was more than an inquiry after his health.
“Ah,” he nodded slowly. “I’m … better. Cailan was as upset as you can imagine. He still can’t believe that I’m not just going to disappear again; the matron has to coax him off of my legs every time I see him. He’s like me in a lot of ways. I can’t believe I didn’t see that before.”
“And how is it being king?”
“I’ve thrown myself back into it since I left. Loghain isn’t sure whether to be impressed or infuriated, I think. He’d taken over so many of my responsibilities, not that I’d left him any choice. I’ve invited the new Empress of Orlais to meet with me next month; that had him ranting and raving about here in a fit. Still, I think it …” He paused, watching Fiona’s eyes tear up as she looked at him affectionately. “You don’t want to hear this,” he said. “It’s boring. I’m boring you.”
“No, I’m glad you’re doing so well. The way you talk about these things, you sound excited about them. You should hear yourself.” She smiled at him and wiped away the tears, even though more came.
“Well, I guess I like boring things.” He grinned at her. “But I’d rather hear about you. The taint … when you left, you said …”
“It’s gone,” she said flatly. “The mages at Weisshaupt weren’t sure if it was because the First Enchanter’s brooch sped things up artificially, or … at any rate, all the corruption vanished. They don’t think it’s going to come back, either. There was test after test, but they think I may be the first Grey Warden that never has to endure the Calling again.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “They’re keeping the brooches, in case they can figure out how they worked, but in the meantime they want to keep an eye on me.” She hesitated only a moment before adding, “I’m being recalled to Weisshaupt. For good.”
Ah. This was it, then. For all that he had feared her reason for returning might be to tell him she was beginning her Calling, a small part of him had hoped for something more. Their time together in the Deep Roads had been brief, but it had meant a great deal to him. It still did. “And you’re going?”
“The order isn’t leaving me much choice. Plus, they need someone to head the search for the Architect, and to make sure its plan didn’t go any further than Remille. Who knows what other allies it didn’t mention?”
“Oh,” he said, crestfallen.
Fiona smiled warmly at him, reaching out and smoothing the hair out of his eyes. She seemed almost sad again, and doubtful. “Maric, I have something to tell you.”
“Something else?”
“When I heard that Duncan was returning to Ferelden, I asked to come with him. I needed to do this in person.” She sighed heavily, as if gathering her nerve, and then stood. He stood, as well, growing more nervous by the second. She turned toward the doors and called out more loudly: “Duncan, you can come back in.”
The doors opened and Duncan quietly walked back inside. This time, however, he was carry ing a small package wrapped in a cloth in his arms. As he drew closer, Maric realized that what he was carry ing wasn’t a package. It was an infant.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty,” Duncan said with a grin. “It’s a boy.” He carefully handed the child to Maric, who took it numbly. He stared down at this tiny baby, shock more than anything else running through his mind. The child had a wisp of blond hair and rosy pink cheeks, and was sleeping soundly. It was definitely his, however. The boy even looked a bit like Cailan. Maric also noticed that the boy’s ears were quite round.
“He’s human,” he exclaimed out loud. Really there should have been something better to say, but that was all he could think of at the moment.
Fiona nodded. “That’s why we stay together in the alienages, mostly. The children of humans and elves are human. If we interbred, we would die out.”
“I hadn’t thought of it.” He shook his head, still stunned.
She reached out to relieve him of the child, and he allowed her to. The boy stirred only slightly, scowling in his sleep and wiping his tiny hands across his face. She smiled sadly down at him and shushed him quietly, rocking him in her arms. “The chances of a Grey Warden conceiving are not very large,” she said quietly. “Yet here he is. Amazing, isn’t it?”
Maric sat down on the steps before his legs simply gave out on him. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to organize his bewildered thoughts. Then he let out a long, ragged breath. “Andraste’s grace, but Loghain isn’t going to like this.”
“So don’t tell him,” she said. Fiona handed the child off to Duncan and then sat next to Maric, her expression grim. “I didn’t bring him here to provide you with another heir, Maric. You already have an heir. Nor did I come to give you an illegitimate child by an elf. You don’t need that, either. I want him to have a life, a good life. The kind of life I didn’t have.”
He turned and stared at her, suddenly realizing what she was saying. “You don’t mean …”
“I can’t raise him,” she said simply. She took a deep, ragged breath and let it out, and he realized this was not easy for her. In fact, it was tearing her up inside. This was why she had come.
“You could come here,” he offered. “You could leave the Wardens.”
Fiona nodded, but it seemed like she didn’t really believe it. “Even if I could,” her tone was harsh, “what would I do? Be your mistress? The elven mage? Or would I live at the Circle of Magi’s tower? Or maybe I would live in the city somewhere, and you would send me money from time to time and hope nobody would find out?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he protested.
She relented, sighing. “I know. I’m sorry. Outside of the Grey Wardens, I’m no one. I’m either a mage with no freedom, or an elf with no skills.” She turned to him and smirked in grim amusement. “Perhaps I could become a washerwoman? Hide from the templars in the alienage, using my magic to stoke the fires? I bet I’d be good at it.”
“Maybe not, then. What do … what happens normally when a Grey Warden has a child? It must happen, surely.”
“It does. We give the child up. I told them I already had a place in mind.”
“There isn’t another way?”
“I wish …” Fiona shook her head firmly. “No, what I want is for him to be human. I want him to be fully human and not in line for your throne, not competing with your other son and tied to this royal blood that has brought you nothing but grief. I want him to have a fresh start.” She looked at him hopefully. “You can do that, can’t you?”
“I can have him raised away from the court,” Maric said, considering. “But people are bound to wonder who his mother is. Loghain will want to know. The child will almost certainly want to know… . What will we tell him?”
“Tell him nothing. Let him think his mother human, and dead.” She reached over to where Duncan gently cooed and rocked the baby, patting his head with a melancholy smile. “It will be easier, for him and for you.”
“What about for you?”
She made no response, simply continued to stroke the child’s forehead. He noticed that her eyes glistened brightly, however. No, there wasn’t any way this would be easier for her.