The Conversation at the Fireplace

The fires that kept Castle Highever warm did nothing against the cold Morrigan felt in her soul as the only person she ever considered a friend sat across from her. Ten years, and Adora was still as lovely as ever, even with her belly large with child. Sitting in a fur-laced chair, Adora radiated calm and serenity, a trait Morrigan always envied. Morrigan could have used some serenity, especially considering the conversation that was about to take place.

“So,” Adora finally began, placing her tea on the small table to her side. “for the reincarnation of a demon-god, Ceridwen seems perfectly natural. More curious still, I do not sense the taint within her, a strange trait considering she holds within her the spirit of the archdemon itself. Why don’t you start with that, Morrigan?”

For a brief moment, Morrigan felt like a scolded child at her mothe--no, at Flemeth’s feet. “In her grimore, Flemeth wrote about a god—one older than the Maker, one who could control death itself. She also wrote about bringing that god back, of using the archdemon as a beacon in the Fade to draw the Old God to the physical realm. There, the child would be the mortal vessel for the God that I, in time, would be able to possess, as Flemeth once planned to possess me.”

Adora raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And nothing. It didn’t work. Ceridwen is, to my knowledge, a perfectly normal child. If she is a Goddess, she has shown no signs of such power. Such a disappointment, really.” Morrigan shrugged, unused to human contact once again. “I blame Alistair’s inferior seed. He must have screwed everything up.”

“Oh, so I stopped the child from becoming a demon-God?” The man of the hour walked in. “Good for me, then.”

Morrigan snorted. “Alistair. Good to see you are as much of an idiot as you’ve always been.”

“Morrigan. I wish I could say it was good to see you again, but then I’d be lying. Fereldan just hasn’t been the same without your ugly face and heartless bitch attitude.”

“I’m surprised Fereldan is still standing. After all, these fools made you their king. Does that make you King of the Idiots, then?”

“Ha ha.” Alistair threw off a fake laugh. “I thought you once promised me I’d never see you or your demon spawn again. Why stop now? I was just getting use to the quiet.”

“Alistair, I invited her.” Adora interrupted before Morrigan could retort.

“You—what?” Alistair gasped. “My love, why would you--?”

“Despite whatever dislike the two of you share for one another,” the Queen began, “Morrigan and I are friends. And I thought we had some catching up to do. Besides, I was curious about Ceridwen.”

“The child.”

“Your child,” Adora corrected. “Besides, I also thought maybe Ceridwen might want to meet Duncan, when he’s born and all. They’ll be siblings.”

“They will not be siblings. As far as I’m concerned, that night never happened. That demon-spawn shall have no claim to the throne, as we agreed—“

“Alistair,” Adora rubbed her stomach gently. “I’m not talking about claims to the throne. I’m talking about a little girl who might want to meet her baby brother when he’s born.” Adora grabbed Alistair’s hand and placed it on her stomach, so he could feel the baby kicking. “You wanted to see Goldanna, after all.”

Alistair frowned. “I—I, that’s not, I mean—“ But he knew there was no arguing with Adora once she made her mind up. Besides, there was some truth to her words.

“But that girl is Morrigan’s child! She could be heartless like her mother, for all we know.” Alistair argued pitifully.

Morrigan cackled. “Oh, Ceridwen’s far from heartless, despite everything I’ve tried. She takes after you, in that respect. Your weakness has corrupted my offspring.”

“Hurray!”

Adora turned her attention back to the witch at last. “So you’ll stay until the birth of the baby, then?”

Morrigan hesitated. “I will stay, but only until then. I am…afraid to keep Ceridwen around people for too long. She has yet to gain full control over her magic, and there is no telling what could happen if the Circle got a hold of her…”

“Understandable. Now, I believe it has been a long day for everyone. I shall retire, and I suggest you all follow.” She kissed Alistair’s cheek as she rose from her chair. “Goodnight, my love. And goodnight to you as well, Morrigan.”

Soon it was only Alistair and Morrigan by the fire, and it was just as uncomfortable as it sounded.

“Adora. She can’t hate anyone, can she?” Morrigan snorted. “I show up with your bastard and she doesn’t even get angry. She welcomes it with open arms, treats it like part of the family. She’s going to get herself killed because of that, one of these days.”

“She’s been upset before,” Alistair frowned. “She is just…stronger than most. Besides, she’s been weird for the past few weeks. Fergus says she’s nesting, that it’s something all pregnant women do. She’ll be better once Duncan is born.”

“Duncan…is that what you are naming the baby? After your dead friend?”

Alistair nodded. “Yes, if it’s a boy, we’re naming him Duncan, Duncan Bryce.”

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. “And if it’s a girl?”

“We were…we were thinking about naming her Rose.”

Morrigan snorted. “I forgot how cheesy the two of you were! Duncan and Rose…your poor children.”

“Oh? I suppose you could do better, then? What the hell kind of name is Ceridwen, anyway?”

“It is the name of a Goddess, you stupid man, and any child should be honored to carry it!”

The two became silent, preferring to glare at one another instead of speaking. Finally, Alistair broke. “So, Ceridwen is…normal?”

“More normal than expected.”

“You sound so disappointed when you say that.”

Morrigan frowned. “I was expecting the reincarnation of an Old God. Instead, I got a child. How do you think I feel about it?”

“You could have left her. Could have gotten rid of her.”

Morrigan looked appalled. “Just because she wasn’t what I wanted doesn’t mean I am going to get rid of her! She’s my daughter, my very own flesh and blood!”

“Right. So you better not start anything, Morrigan.” Alistair glared. “I mean it. No tricks. This whole ‘visiting’ thing better not be another trap. I’m not giving you another demon-child, and if you do anything, I mean anything to hurt Adora or my child, I will kill you without a second thought.”

Morrigan spat back with venom. “I would like to see you try, templar.”

“There would be no trying: Mark my words, if you were to hurt either of them, I would not rest until you were dead.”

“So be it.” Morrigan growled. “I have no plans to harm your precious little family. If you hurt my daughter, however—“

“I’m not going to hurt my daughter!” Alistair yelled. “I’m not a monster like you!”

“—Then we are in agreement, then? After your precious prince or princess is born, I will be on my way, and you will never see either of us again.”

“You promised me that once,” Alistair glowed. “Don’t break your promise again.”

“I shall not. Goodnight, Alistair.”

And with that, Morrigan left, leaving only Alistair by the fire.

END

A/N: Yes, Alistair and Adora pick cheesy names for their kids, but I picture them as being cheesy people, so it works. :D

I love writing Alistair and Morrigan. They are like a slap-slap-kiss relationship gone horribly, horribly wrong. Every time they start to think they might actually not-hate each other it turns out that they actually truly and deeply hate one another more than they thought. I love it. XD For the record, there will be no Alistair/Morrigan romance in this story. I can’t picture them together, ever. Even when they were ‘conceiving’ Ceridwen, they didn’t look happy (in fact, Alistair looked like Morrigan was going to eat him), so no shipping between them. Find another fic for that, if you want. This fic will primarily be PC/Alistair, which there will be more of.

The “meat” of the story is coming soon. Next chapter will have the baby’s birth, and from there all sorts of fun things will be happening. More characters will show up as well, so it should be fun.

jak