Author: Jakia PM
Six mothers, and the men who loved them. All origins, male PCs. Gen. Happy Mother's Day.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Family - Words: 1,145 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 13 - Published: 05-14-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5969883
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Rhen Aeducan's mother was a noble hunter.
A common joke in the Diamond Quarter of Orzammar is that King Endrin's wife gave him one son, but a noble hunter gave him two. Rhen can laugh at the joke because it's true—he and Bhelen have the same mother, and it shows. The two brothers have a lot in common with each other, especially compared to Trian, who neither of them particularly care for. They have the same mother, the same smile, the same sandy colored hair, the same sense of humor and the same easy grace. He wonders if that means their mother was quite the character, if she won his noble father over with her charm instead of her good looks.
He can't ask her, though—his mother has been dead for years, having died giving birth to Bhelen. Rhen can't fault his baby brother for it, though. Rhen at least had her for two years, even if he doesn't remember much about her: Bhelen, on the other hand, never knew her at all.
When he propositions the two noble hunters, making a point to remember their names (Mardy, he thinks, and Teli,) he thinks his mother would have approved, would have looked at any child he sired with them and smiled, would have told him you are making a difference in this world, son and kissed his cheek. It is part of the reason he has not chosen a bride yet: he wants to help the people he may someday rule; marrying a fellow noble as he is expected to would not change anything.
Rhen thinks of his mother when he kisses Mardy's hand, and smiles.
Baden Brosca tries so very hard to be a good son, but sometimes it's next to impossible.
Everyone knows Kalah isn't the kindest woman even when she's sober, and she's even meaner when she's drunk. Today though, is a pretty bad, worse than normal, because today is the Anniversary of Father's Disappearance.
Rica, for her part, manages to Not Be Home, the lucky girl, leaving Baden alone with their mother.
He doesn't mind, though, not really: Mam needs someone to hold her hair when she vomits and he is nothing if not a dutiful son.
"Yer just like your Father." Kalah spits at him as he tries to guide her out of Tapsters. "And yer gonna end up the same as him, under some rock in the Deep Roads having accomplished nothing with yer life."
He hopes, watching her vomit all over the dusty stone beneath them, to prove her wrong someday.
Mikau Mahariel has never had a mother.
That's okay, though. He's never felt like he has gone without.
"Hold still," Keeper Marethari chides, patching up the scraped skin off his cheek. "Honestly, how do you and Tamlen get into these kinds of messes, anyway?"
He blushes and smiles at her cheekily, trying to ignore the sting of the elfroot on his scraped face. "We were just exploring. You know us, Mamae, we just wanted to see if there were anything in those ruins! We weren't expecting to run into the spiders! We were just curious."
The Keeper rolls her eyes. "Your curiosity will be the death of you, lethallin, and Tamlen too. Be careful next time!"
Still, she kisses his cheek to make it better, and he grins in response.
No, he's never missed having a mother. Never needed to.
Soren Tabris is, according to everyone who knows him, exactly like his mother.
The same red hair, the same green eyes. The same slight frame and the same flirty nature. The same identical smile.
The same trouble-making instincts, too, it seems.
If you keep this up, some of the more cowardly figures in the Alienage warn him after his latest stunt, you're going to end just like Adaia. Killed by the humans for causing trouble.
To Soren, whose Mother was his hero, his inspiration, everything he has ever wanted to be, this sounds like a fine plan and takes their warnings as a compliment.
There are, he thinks, worse ways one could die, and makes an effort to be even nastier to shems than usual.
His mother would have been proud.
If Leonardo Amell ever had a mother, he sure doesn't remember her now.
Which is probably for the best, all things considered. Most mages leave their parents either heartbroken, dragged kicking and screaming from their parent's arms, or betrayed, treated like abominations at a young age and thrown to the Chantry, unwanted and unloved now that their true talents have been exposed.
Personally, he's rather glad he doesn't have these sorts of memories bothering him. They seem like a waste of time all things considered. He'd rather be practicing his fireball spell than moan about worrying whether his mother loved him or not.
Still, a little maternal affection might've helped him in the long run. It might have made him a little more rounded, a little more compassionate. As it is, he's best known in the Tower for being the apprentice who routinely tortures Mr. Wiggums out of sheer boredom.
No, Leonardo Amell has no mother. And it's better that way.
Or so the Chantry preaches.
Aedan Cousland is something of a mama's boy.
It's not something he's ashamed of.
Everyone knew the Teyrna had wanted her second child to be a little girl. In fact, Bryce Cousland was a little surprised at how well Eleanor took to Aedan's birth. Bryce had expected disappointment, resentment, had expected to see sorrow in his wife's eyes when they announced the birth of the Teyrn's second son. But Eleanor just held the baby, rocked him softly, and when tiny little green eyes met the Teyrna's own emerald orbs that was it, that was all it took. Aedan was hers, and he always would be.
Mama's boy, Fergus would tease him during their childhood, but Aedan would always just shrug it off. He didn't see it as an insult, even as a small boy. He loved his mother, loved her enough to know that when she said she wanted to stay behind and die beside his father, she meant it. And he loved her enough to respect her final wishes, as much as it hurt him at the time.
When Leliana gives birth to a little girl, Aedan names their daughter Eleanor. It's the only way he knows how to honor her properly, to give his daughter the name of the strongest woman he ever knew.
She would have liked that, he thinks, and rocks his daughter gently to sleep.
A/N: Happy (late) Mother's Day.