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ma-sulevin · 7 years ago

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The Life and Times of Sophie Amell: The Calling

Rating: M

Relationship: Female Amell/Nathaniel Howe (this chapter)

Summary: Sophie Amell was just a very young girl when the entire course of her life changed because she can summon flames at her fingertips. Each time she thinks her life is settling into something resembling normalcy, everything changes once again. She’s conscripted into the Grey Wardens, she’s sent to Amaranthine, or she loses someone she loves.

Usually, she loses the ones she loves every time her life changes.

This is the story of unwilling Warden Sophie Amell, told in four parts: The Tower, The Blight, The Wardens, and The Calling.

NOTE: OKAY. There are TWO instances of miscarriage in this chapter. Nothing graphic and nothing explicit, but they are there. I put both of them between asterisks *** instead of dashes --- so you can skip them as appropriate. Don't make yourself sad.

Part Four. The Calling. (Read on AO3)

[chapter three] [masterpost]

With the darkspawn threat finally, finally gone, Amaranthine can begin to rebuild. Funds are tight in the arling, but Woolsey and Varel make it work with Sophie and Nathaniel’s suggestions.

Nathaniel was raised to be the arl, after all. He knows a few things about keeping Amaranthine running smoothly.

Delilah has her son in the spring, a little boy with blonde hair like his father and Nathaniel’s gray eyes. Nathaniel is afraid to hold him almost, sitting very still and staring down at the infant like he might break. Sophie pretends that she doesn’t see when he has to brush tears from his eyes.

The Vigil recovers slowly. The Wardens that helped it through the months after the Blight slowly return to their own lives, deserting the Order when it becomes clear that their expertise is no longer needed. Velanna returns to the forest to find her family again. Left alone, Sigrun disappears back into the Deep Roads, ready to rejoin the Legion and help lead them to the darkspawn.

It becomes quiet, the days blending together even as the seasons start to change. None of their contacts know where Anders has run off to, and gradually his absence hurts less and less. Sometimes Sophie will want to reach out for him, to tell him something funny, only to remember again that he’s gone.

She still has Ser Pounce, who sleeps curled up against Aoife’s side every night. And she still has Nathaniel, who sleeps curled up against her side every night. He moves into her rooms completely, all pretense of professionalism forgotten in the face of his desire to have her in his arms every night.

He finds that he enjoys the domesticity of their evenings, of being able to eat dinner together and relax in front of a fire without having to worry about darkspawn attacking the Vigil from the Deep Roads underneath or a nearby nesting ground. He likes spending the day in Amaranthine with her visiting his sister, playing with his nephew. He likes seeing Sophie cuddle the baby, so much bigger each time they see him, kissing his chubby cheeks and making silly faces until he laughs.

When Delilah pulls him aside one day before they leave, a secret smile on her face, and presses a little box into his hands with the words, “Mama would want you to have this,” he realizes what he should have months ago.

---

“Happy Satinalia.”

Sophie’s eyes blink open slowly, and she turns toward the sleep-roughened voice by instinct. She reaches out for him with one arm, stretching until he grabs her hand and pulls it to his chest. She grins and moves closer until her head is tucked under his chin, and she immediately begins dropping back to sleep.

“Sophie…” his voice is a little sing-song that he only uses when he’s in a particularly good mood, and it makes her smile even as she groans her irritation with being woken. He chuckles a little. “Did you forget again?”

She had, actually, forgotten, but she just shrugs instead of admitting that to him. There’s no reason for her to remember every little holiday, not with Varel in charge of feast preparations. Nathaniel had woken her last year too, her and Anders together, and given them matching protection runes on long silverite chains. She still wears hers, though there’s no telling what Anders has done with his. She snuggles a little closer to push the memory away.

“If you wake up, I’ll give you your present and then get us breakfast to eat in bed.” His fingers tease up and down her back, then slip under her nightgown to tickle against her bare back. She giggles and shifts in his arms, but doesn’t pull away.

Finally she sighs a little. “I’m awake; I’m awake. Quit that.”

He releases her and rolls to grab something off of his bedside table. She props herself up on one elbow and waits for him, pushing her curls away from her face as she does.

He turns back with something clutched in his hand and takes a deep breath before speaking.

“You know I love you, right?” Sophie narrows her eyes at him, suspicious, but nods. Nathaniel continues, face softening as he speaks, each word deliberately chosen. “I never thought I would find someone I love so much, nevermind under these circumstances.” The thumb of his free hand strokes across her cheek as it floods with heat. “Despite everything we’ve been through, I’ve never been happier, and I don’t want this to end.”

He falls silent and looks down toward his still-clasped hand resting between them. Sophie looks too and sits up all the way when she sees the ring resting in his palm. She leans away from him as he sits up too, hands covering her mouth.

Nathaniel’s face is serious as he reaches out for her left hand. He pulls it to his mouth to press a kiss against her knuckles before he slides the ring on her finger. It’s loose on her little hand--the jeweler in Amaranthine will have to take a look at it--but she snaps her attention back to Nathaniel as he starts to speak again.

“You mean more to me than anything else, and I want to make sure you know I want to be here with you forever. Sophie Amell, will you marry me?” He folds her fingers into a fist to keep the ring from sliding off, and she stares down at it with her lips slightly parted.

Silence stretches between them as Sophie stares down at a ring she never thought she’d have, given to her by a man she never thought she’d meet, and she can’t make her mouth work.

“Sophie?” Nathaniel squeezes her hand, and when she finally looks up at him she sees his eyebrows starting to draw together.

“I, oh, we can’t!” The words fall from her lips before she fully considers them, and Nathaniel’s fingers tighten on hers in his shock. She shakes her head, quickly, curls bouncing. “I--we--no!” She clutches at Nathaniel’s fingers when he starts to pull away, holding him still with eyes growing wild. “No one is going to marry us,” she finally forces out. “I’m a mage. I’m not allowed. ”

Nathaniel’s expression shifts from hurt to a moment of extreme anger to irritated resignation before he reaches up to tangle his fingers in her curls. He pulls her face to his and presses his lips first to her forehead and then to her lips, lingering for a long moment before sighing.

“It doesn’t matter,” he finally murmurs, resting his forehead against hers. “I would be your husband regardless of what the Chantry says. I’ve never cared about the Chantry.”

Sophie’s laugh is a little watery, but she nods anyway and pulls away to look back down at the ring. “Okay. Okay. Yes.” She looks up at Nathaniel and pauses as he wipes away the tear that’s escaped. “My husband.”

He chuckles, the sound a low rumble from his chest. “My wife,” he says, and he closes the distance between them again for another kiss.

---

Warden-Commander,

Levi told me of your promotion. Some of my more recent experiments have borne some fruit, but I don’t have enough supplies to continue research at this time. Levi has agreed to make the journey to Amaranthine once more for me.

If you’re able, the library at Weisshaupt Fortress has some tomes that would help me immensely. I’ll provide a list with Levi.

Write quickly. We are all running out of time.

---

Lady Sophie Amell, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Warden-Commander of Ferelden,

The formal announcement will be made soon, but I wanted to let you know that I’m getting married. We finalized the contract this afternoon, and I wanted you to hear it from me.

You remember Rendon Howe? You took over the arling from him after we killed him in Denerim. He arranged for the murder of the Couslands, back before we met in Ostagar, but both of their children survived. Fergus Cousland is now Teyrn of Highever, and his younger sister Ophelia is my betrothed.

That still seems strange to say, but it’s the truth. The country needs a queen and an heir or two, and I am here to serve Ferelden.

I hope you’ve found happiness in Amaranthine.

His Royal Highness, Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden

---

“I got a letter from the First Warden,” Sophie says, flopping face down onto the bed next to Nathaniel.

He barely glances up from his book. “Did you?” He turns a page and Sophie glares up at him at the sound, but her expression holds no heat. She curls onto her side and nods, then closes her eyes for a long moment before speaking again.

“They want me in Weisshaupt.”

This does catch Nathaniel’s attention, and he closes the book before turning to look at her fully. She keeps her eyes closed, a frown on her face, and he reaches down to brush a curl away from her forehead. “Why? Just you?”

She shrugs and opens one eye to peer up at him. “Didn’t say. Just we need your assistance . Insufferably vague. Wardens do love their secrets.”

Nathaniel hums in acknowledgment, still looking down at her. “When are you going?”

When he asks. Not if. She sighs and sits up, moving closer to wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his chest. He returns the embrace and strokes at her hair that’s been in need of a trim for months.

“ We can leave as soon as we’re ready,” she says, voice sound simultaneously commanding and a little petulant, and the combination makes Nathaniel grin. “I wasn’t exactly planning on leaving you behind. Varel can take care of everything. He has for years.”

Nathaniel hums again but doesn’t speak, going over the trip in his mind, already starting to puzzle out the specifics to form a plan for traveling to the other side of Thedas. What they’ll need to bring, who should stay behind in case of emergency in the arling, and it’s only after several minutes of silence that he realizes Sophie’s fallen asleep in his arms, completely unconcerned.

She’s traveled across Ferelden before, after all. The last time on foot, in the middle of winter with almost no experience defending herself. Traveling to Weisshaupt with him must seem easy in comparison.

***

A few days before they’re scheduled to board a ship from Amaranthine to Cumberland, where they’ll take the Imperial Highway as far as they can into the Anderfels, Nathaniel finds Sophie softly crying in their room, perched on the edge of their bed with her head in her hands.

He freezes at the door for a moment, hand still on the knob as though he’s not sure he should interrupt, but quickly shakes the thought off and moves to kneel in front of her. He puts his hands on her thighs and rubs soothing circles, squeezing at the firm muscle to pull her attention to him.

She wipes her face as soon as she realizes he’s there, cheeks turning pink under the freckles he loves so much, and her jaw works as she searches for something to say to pretend that she hadn’t just been crying all alone. She takes a deep breath and opens her mouth to speak before giving up to sigh instead.

Nathaniel has to speak first. “What happened?”

Her blush deepens a little and she shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m fine.” Nathaniel raises his eyebrows slowly so she’ll know he doesn’t believe her, and after a moment she tries again, speaking more slowly this time as though she’d weighing each word before it passes her lips. “I started my cycle today. A few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” is Nathaniel’s reply, and he wrinkles his forehead as he tries to parse what about this event would cause her tears. She’s biting at her lower lip and her eyes keep darting away from his like she’s embarrassed, but they’ve been together for four years. This shouldn’t embarrass her. “Are you… in pain?”

She shakes her head once, quickly, and squirms out of his grasp. He lets her stand, but follows her, grabbing her hand before she can leave. She makes a little whine of annoyance, but lets him hold her in place. “It was supposed to come a few weeks ago, so I thought… it doesn’t matter.”

Now she won’t look at him, so she doesn’t see the pained look that flickers across Nathaniel’s face, the way his lips turn down at the corners and his forehead creases. “I didn’t know you wanted…” after her tears, he can’t bring himself to say the word.

She still doesn’t look at him.

“I didn’t either. Before…” she sighs a little and tugs at his grip, but he tightens his fingers and holds her still. “It doesn’t matter. Grey Wardens can’t… it doesn’t matter.”

When she tries to pull away again, he lets her, and stands with hands fisted at his sides as she disappears down the hallway.

***

Sophie’s never been on a ship before, and the journey down the Waking Sea to Cumberland leaves her lying very still in their cabin, praying for a swift death, while Nathaniel spends his time walking the deck, making friends with the sailors, and generally having a much better time than she is. At night, he joins her, and gently plays with her hair, trying to chase away her seasickness and lingering sadness.

It works as well as it can, and by the time they reach land again, she’s smiling and laughing as easily as she had before.

Their journey through Nevarra and along the border of Tevinter on the Imperial Highway is easier than either of them expected, though it still takes weeks. Nathaniel enjoys this time they have together, just the two of them, without the added pressure of the arling or the Wardens. They never took a honeymoon after their impromptu wedding, and this is likely as close as they’ll ever get.

Sophie writes to the arling occasionally, just checking in and letting Varel know that they’re both still alive and well. She posts the letters and the inns where they stay in the larger cities, generally choosing to camp along the highway if they don’t have anywhere to rent a room.

“It’s like we’re fighting the Blight all over again,” she says, and the soft way she smiles at him makes him think that’s a good thing. When she cuddles close to him in their shared bedroll and lets her hand slip below the waist of his sleeping pants, he knows that’s a good thing.

---

Weisshaupt is… it’s not what Sophie was picturing. It’s large, and it’s cold, and there are hardly any Wardens there. One comes out to greet them with a bright smile and wide eyes, and excitedly shakes Sophie’s hand, and doesn’t stop talking about how long she’s been waiting for this day.

Sophie thinks it’s adorable. Nathaniel is less pleased, but he manages to keep his irritation to himself until the young Warden shows them to their rooms. He promptly leaves his to join Sophie in hers, dragging his bag with him, and they help each other bathe before meeting the senior Wardens.

It feels very domestic. It feels like home, like they’ve always done this, and it’s easy to pretend that they’re still in Amaranthine and not halfway across the world, facing who-knows-what from their commanding officers.

Sophie tightens her fingers around Nathaniel’s as they walk down the hall after their young guide. As long as they don’t separate them, she doesn’t care what the First Warden has to say.

---

A new thaig has been found under the Free Marches. Rumors of a new form of lyrium are circling. Darkspawn are still moving above ground in Nevarra. New recruits are needed, though not so many as there are during a Blight.

It would have been easy enough to put these things in a letter, or send a single messenger to Amaranthine to tell them. Having Sophie leave Ferelden and go all the way to Weisshaupt seems… excessive, almost, but she isn’t going to complain. She has a few days to rest and explore before they have to go to Kirkwall to explore the Deep Roads there before they’ll be allowed to go home.

None of the senior Wardens said anything about the rings on their fingers or the way they sat too close together. The Warden-Chamberlain actually winked at her when she noticed, but Sophie isn’t going to complain about that either. She wasn’t sure whether or not they were breaking the rules of the Order when they began fraternizing or when they pledged themselves to each other three years ago, but she had no intention of asking either. She’s pleased to see that there won’t be a punishment now.

---

Nathaniel sleeps in their rooms, still exhausted from their travels, and Sophie busies herself in the library. It’s the biggest one she’s ever seen by far, and she’s almost overwhelmed before she remembers Avernus’ note that she still has clutched in her pocket.

She finds the books she needs one at a time, meticulously taking notes for Avernus. She doesn’t understand many of the things she reads--healing has never been her specialty, and she knows little of the taint beyond what she learned from the Joining--but she does the best she can.

It isn’t only her future that depends on what she finds here. It’s the future of her relationship with Nathaniel, their lives, Alistair’s life, even possibly the future of Ferelden if he can’t produce an heir.

That’s the thought that makes her lip curl in irritation, but she pushes it away. It’s been years now. She should be happy that he found someone he’s willing to marry.

She should write to him. Tell him she’s happy for him, and that she only wishes the best for him and his new queen. She never responded to his last letter, or to the fat letter she received later that she assumed was a wedding invitation and thus didn’t open.

She pushes away the guilt and resumes her research.

---

Something is going on with the senior Wardens. Things are somehow quieter now than they were when Sophie and Nathaniel first arrived, more tense, and it’s affecting them both. Some of the Warden recruits have disappeared, and Sophie doesn’t know where they’ve gone, and Nathaniel can’t get answers out of everyone either.

It’s… eerie, and it’s uncomfortable, and Sophie and Nathaniel slip away as soon as they can.

Their last writing with Varel has shown he has the arling well under control, but the Wardens have mostly all abandoned their posts. Some have moved to other posts, particularly in the Free Marches and Orlais, but it’s no longer the Warden outpost it used to be. Sophie and Nathaniel need to come home, he says, and they split up according to their orders.

They take another ship from Cumberland, and Nathaniel disembarks in Kirkwall while Sophie stays and returns to Amaranthine.

---

Nathaniel stays in Kirkwall longer than they planned. Sophie receives a letter in Amaranthine before he goes into the Deep Roads, but then she hears nothing else for months. Every day that passes without word from him makes her irritable and anxious, and she spends her days training in the yard, writing letters to Avernus, and visiting Delilah to spend time with her and the babies.

Thomas is running around now, happy as could be with his little toy sword and stuffed griffin. A baby girl followed him, sooner than anyone was expecting, and Eliane toddles along holding onto Sophie’s fingers whenever the mage visits.

The way the children accept her as a whole person, loving her despite--or perhaps because of--her magic makes her cry when she thinks about it alone in the Vigil. When she’s with Delilah and the children, she just laughs and plays and makes little mage lights for the kids to chase, and lets Delilah play with her hair when she can’t stop worrying about Nathaniel.

Sophie doesn’t hear anything from Nathaniel for months , nothing from any of the other Wardens he was supposed to be with either, and most communication has ceased coming from Weisshaupt too. She whispers her concerns to Delilah one evening after too much wine, and then Delilah disappears too.

---

It only takes three weeks before Delilah returns to the Vigil on horseback, Nathaniel in tow. She stands back and watches with a soft little smile as Sophie forgets who she’s supposed to be and runs across the courtyard to jump into Nathaniel’s arms.

They clutch each other as though afraid one of them would disappear again, fingers digging into armor and skin. Sophie cries unashamedly into Nathaniel’s shoulder, not noticing when a few tears drip from his chin into her curls, and Delilah slips away to return to her own family.

“What happened?” Sophie pulls away only enough to look into Nathaniel’s eyes as she speaks, and he reaches up to wipe at her damp face with his thumb.

Nathaniel shakes his head and pulls Sophie against his chest again, tucking her head under his chin. They stand very still, just breathing together, and Sophie begins to cry again when she feels how hard he’s trembling.

***

It happens again after Nathaniel is in the Vigil for a few months. A course missed, another late, and then the bleeding begins once more.

This time she tells Nathaniel and allows him to get a healer, who confirms what she already knew, already felt in her heart. A life lost before it could truly begin, and Sophie waits until she’s alone again to cry.

The taint took everything from her, and now it’s taking more. The only good things to come from her conscription into the Wardens were that she wasn’t in the Circle when Uldred took it over… and Nathaniel.

Nathaniel who sits with her, staying awake even when she can’t sleep until the sun starts to make the room light again. Nathaniel who brings her tea and plays with her hair, not speaking, just being a strong and silent support.

If Sophie believed in the Maker after all this, after everything that’s happened in the seven-odd years since she was conscripted, she would say Nathaniel is Maker-sent.

But she doesn’t, so she just wraps her arms around him and cries into his shirt.

***

“Did you hear?”

Sophie looks blearily over the letter in her hand to see Nathaniel’s wild eyes at her door. Aoife raises her head too, disrupting Ser Pounce who makes a disgruntled brrp noise before curling back around himself and going back to sleep.

“What?” her voice is a little snappish, betraying her lack of sleep and the headache playing behind her eyes.

Nathaniel doesn’t notice. “There was an explosion in Kirkwall. Their Chantry is gone. The Gallows--the Circle there?--it fell. ” He’s talking fast now, moving closer, and Sophie stands slowly to watch him. “The Knight-Commander tried to annul the Circle, she tried to kill everyone, not just the mages.”

“Why would she do that?” Sophie interrupts, cold dread pooling in her stomach at the word annul. “What does one have to do with the other?”

Nathaniel pauses, gray eyes sharpening to assess her, then he circles the desk to put his hands on her arms, holding her still. “It was Anders.”

Anders’ name is like a punch to Sophie’s gut. She exhales sharply and lists forward, and it’s only Nathaniel’s hands on her that keeps her upright. “Anders? What was Anders?”

“Anders blew up the chantry.” Nathaniel whispers the words like they hurt to say, and his jaw tightens at the same time that his fingers begin to dig into her skin. “It was Anders. ”

“He was in Kirkwall?” she squeaks. Aoife stands and releases a low, threatening growl. “He was in Kirkwall the whole fucking time ?” She takes a step back, breaking Nathaniel’s hold on her and running into her desk at the same time. “Nathaniel, you were in Kirkwall for months .”

He swallows hard and hangs his head. “I know,” he breathes, and Sophie sits down hard. Aoife comes to stand between them, pushing Nathaniel a step back on her way.

“Did you know he was there?” Nathaniel doesn’t answer, so Sophie slams her palm down on the desk and Aoife barks quietly, just enough to let Nathaniel know that he should really answer the question. “Did you see him when you were there?”

Nathaniel sets his jaw and lifts his chin, meeting her eyes. “He was with Hawke when they found me in the Deep Roads. We didn’t speak.”

Sophie’s voice breaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Nathaniel takes a step closer, but Aoife growls again to pin him in place.

“He didn’t want to speak to me. He… ran away, almost.” Nathaniel shifts from foot to foot as Sophie covers her face with her hands. She takes a shuddering breath, then another, then finally she reaches out and pats Aoife’s head.

The mabari sighs, eyes Nathaniel suspiciously, then stretches before leaving the room.

“And then he blew up the chantry.”

Nathaniel nods, holding one hand out for her. She takes it and lets him pull her to her feet and against his chest so he can wrap her in a tight embrace. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

She ignores it. “Could we have done something?” she asked. “Could we have brought him back?”

Nathaniel kisses the top of her head. “I don’t think we could have done anything,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

---

Varel is the one who notices it. He keeps glancing from Nathaniel to Sophie and back, his face twisting into a more and more confused expression until he finally says, “What are you humming?”

The humming immediately ceases as they stare at him.

Sophie speaks first. “What?”

Varel sighs and rubs at the spot between his brows he always seems to rub when he has to speak to the arlessa. “You’re both humming something,” he says, voice purposefully calm. “You’ve been humming it for days now.”

Sophie and Nathaniel exchange a glance, but only Sophie’s face drains of color.

They’re both hearing the same song.

---

“I wondered when you would come.” Avernus is positively decrepit, hunched over and more wrinkled and more… corpse-like than he was when Sophie saw him last. She offers him a handshake anyway, and Nathaniel follows her lead though he looks a little green when he touches the old Warden’s papery skin.

Avernus turns and shuffles through the empty keep, waving for Sophie and Nathaniel to follow him.

“I believe I have a cure,” he says, and Sophie’s hand reaches out to grab Nathaniel’s. “I need more time to ensure there are no problems with the formula. I assume you will both will help?”

Sophie squeezes Nathaniel’s hand, and he’s already nodding when she turns to look at him. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

Avernus smiles, pushing through a decaying door to enter his laboratory. “Good,” he creaks, and Sophie has to suppress a shiver at the sound of his voice. “In that case, I need more Wardens.”

---

This is when being a better Warden-Commander would come in handy. Sophie doesn’t know where any Wardens are anymore. She knows Alistair is in the capitol--but she doesn’t want to involve him until she knows for sure what’s going on.

She writes to him, posts it from one of the smaller towns, but she doesn’t say much.

The song is false, she says. Nate and I are with Avernus. Do not come. She hasn’t said anything else to him in years. They haven’t spoken in person since she conscripted Anders. She hasn’t written him a letter since he married.

But she won’t have him thinking that he’s dying just when he’s finally found the family he’s always wanted.

She moves through Ferelden with only Aoife at her side, skirts the Frostback Mountains to get to Orlais. She goes through Halamshiral on her way to Lydes, searching for one of the Warden outposts, praying that they won’t have abandoned that as well.

What she finds is worse.

All of the Wardens there--all five of them--are hearing the Calling too. Everyone else has gone ahead to meet with the Orlesian Warden-Commander in preparation to kill the Old Gods once and for all. There’s a Tevinter mage, apparently, one whose only wish is to help the Wardens, who has a plan to strengthen the Wardens so they can storm the Deep Roads and kill the remaining Old Gods.

It’s madness.

Sophie leaves Orlais with Aoife leading the way.

---

Safely back in Ferelden, Sophie rents a little room in a tavern and writes letters with Aoife snoring at her feet. She writes to Nathaniel, to Avernus, to Alistair, to Weisshaupt. Everyone needs to know what the Wardens are doing, and she doesn’t want to be found before they’re stopped.

She leaves the letters with the innkeeper’s wife to post, and stops as the woman excitedly tells her all about how Divine Justinia is going to “put them mages in their place” after the Conclave in a few weeks, and how they’ll be punished for what happened in Kirkwall.

“They should be ashamed of theirselves,” she says, and Sophie pretends to nod understandingly before she leaves.

---

“Sophie.”

Sophie nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears the voice. She still dreams of it sometimes, but this is the first time she’s heard it in real life. It makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she freezes before she turns around.

Aoife abandons Sophie without hesitation, bounding over to greet the king. Sophie turns very slowly to watch, smiling slightly as Aoife hesitates to do her little mabari bow before closing the rest of the distance to let Alistair pet her.

He kneels down so he can be at her eye level and buries his hands in her short fur, scratching thoroughly behind ears and down her chest. He kisses the gray hairs that cover her muzzle, and she licks his face right back.

He laughs, and Sophie takes a step closer to him.

“What are you doing here?” her voice sounds harder than she meant it, but she’s tired and she’s surprised and Aoife has abandoned her to stand by herself.

Alistair gives Aoife one final, loving scratch before he stands. He looks… regal. It’s been nine years, and it’s only served to make him more handsome. He’s filled out a little, grown his beard out a little more than he ever had when they were traveling together, and he’s wearing fine clothes that are cut very well to show off his strength that hasn’t diminished.

“I got your letters,” he says, and takes a step closer. He lifts one hand like he might pull her in for a hug, but he drops it before he can. “The Calling, it…” he scrubs his hand over his face. “I can’t live like this, Soph.”

Sophie takes a step closer to him, her heart clenching in her chest. Then she takes another, and another, and then they’re embracing. The song has been chasing her across Ferelden and back, keeping her awake more than she should be, and she can’t stop the tears that fall when she feels Alistair’s arms around her again.

Alistair doesn’t try to stop his tears either. He releases everything he’s been holding in, everything he’s been trying to be too strong to feel.

They stand in each other’s arms for several minutes with Aoife resting her comforting weight against their legs. When they finally calm, Sophie steps away first and wipes at her eyes.

“Why are you here , though?” she asks, finally coming to her senses enough to remember her first reaction. “I told you to stay in the palace.”

Alistair shuffles a little, wiping at his own face before tugging at the reddish beard on his chin. He coughs. “Lia’s pregnant,” he says, and Sophie feels her whole body tense before she really hears his words. “Six months. This is the longest she’s…” he stops, his voice choking off as new tears threaten him. He clears his throat again. “I can’t let our child grow up without a father. If there’s a cure to be found, I have to help.”

Sophie bites her tongue against the tears, lets the sharp pain distract her even as she reaches out to rub Aoife’s head. “Okay. I understand. Have you been here long? Where’s Nate?”

Alistair’s face falls and he holds out his hand to her. “Come with me.”

---

It looks like Nathaniel is asleep. Breaths still make his chest rise and fall, his eyes move behind closed lids, and when Sophie checks his heart it feels strong inside his chest.

But he won’t wake.

“He tested the cure for me,” Alistair says, wringing his hands together the way he used to when he and Sophie traveled together and he was feeling particularly anxious about something. “I told him not to, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s more stubborn than you are.”

Sophie laughs, a tiny, watery thing, and leans forward to press a kiss to Nathaniel’s forehead. His skin is cool to the touch, but not unnaturally so. She tries to send a healing spell into him, but her magic is too shaky, her spirit magic too weak to do anything more than let her know he’s still alive.

They need a spirit healer, and the thought makes her start to cry in earnest.

They need Anders.

“He’s been unconscious for two, or three days? Avernus thinks he’ll wake up soon. Please don’t cry. He’s going to be okay. Don't cry, Soph.” Alistair scoots a little closer to Sophie, moving hesitantly. He glances between where Aoife is resting by Nathaniel’s feet and where Sophie has her face still pressed against Nathaniel’s forehead, and settles next to her. He rubs a soothing hand over Sophie’s back as her sobs grow.

“Why didn’t he wait for me?” she demands, voice muffled in Nathaniel’s pillow. “He should have waited.”

Alistair squeezes her shoulder. “He knew you would have told him not to.”

“Well he was damn right,” she says, and then miraculously she lifts up her head and laughs. Alistair smiles a little crookedly, waiting for her to explain, and Aoife just sighs and flops onto her side.

Sophie doesn’t even look at Alistair. “You should go back to Denerim,” she says, and he immediately pulls his hand away from her back. “The queen needs you. Ferelden needs you. Something’s going on with the Wardens, and someone needs to be around to handle it.”

“What will you do?”

“I’ll stay here, help Avernus. When the cure is ready, I’ll bring it to you personally.” She turns to Alistair then and reaches out one hand. He takes it without hesitation, eyes going soft around the edges, and she smiles at him. “I won’t let you suffer for one moment longer than necessary,” she promises, “but you can’t hide here.”

Alistair sighs a laugh. “You never would let me hide from the throne,” he says, and Sophie laughs with him this time.

They sit in silence, fingers still entwined, and wait for the sun to rise.

---

Alistair is already back in Denerim when Nathaniel finally wakes. He does so slowly, stretching and yawning like he’d taken a nap rather than been unconscious for a week, and smiles when he sees Sophie’s stricken expression.

“You asshole,” she says, and Nathaniel bursts into laughter. She flings herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his hair. “You fucker. ”

He’s still laughing, but he wraps his arms around her and squeezes her tight against his chest. “I love you,” he says, voice dry.

Sophie sniffs. “I love you too. Do not do that again.”

He smooths a hand over her curls. “I promise.”

Her fingers tighten on him and she presses herself even closer. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

Nathaniel’s next breath catches in his throat. “And I won’t. I’ll always be here.”

Sophie sniffs. “Good.”

---

Nathaniel’s feedback helps Avernus make changes to the cure. Just a few tweaks, designed to pull the taint out a little faster without becoming too painful or moving quickly enough to cause harm to the Warden.

It takes a few more weeks--Avernus is methodical to a fault, and time doesn’t seem to mean the same thing to him as it does to Sophie and Nathaniel--but when the cure is finally ready, Sophie takes it.

She sits with Nathaniel on their bed, fingers entwined, with Aoife and Avernus watching closely, and she downs the potion in one long swallow.

She gags. It's thick, oily, and it feels like it’s still in her mouth as she swallows again and again. Nathaniel squeezes her hand and murmurs nonsense words to keep her calm, and she shudders with her whole body.

Her hands shake, her teeth chatter, pain spears her gut and then travels through her veins to every part of her body. She curls in on herself, an inhuman wail rising from her mouth that has Aoife howling in response.

Nathaniel casts a wide-eyed, helpless look at Avernus, who doesn’t react.

“You did the same,” he says. “It will pass.”

But it doesn’t feel like it will.

---

In the end, Sophie is unconscious longer than Nathaniel was. Nathaniel is angry--at Avernus for being wrong, at himself for letting her take the untested potion, at Sophie for conscripting him, at Duncan for conscripting her-- and he paces relentlessly.

Though the cure was improved, the taint was greater in Sophie than in Nathaniel. She fought in the Blight; she delivered the killing blow to the archdemon. She would have felt her true Calling in a few short years, and it was only luck that drove them to Avernus in time.

But it doesn’t feel like luck when Sophie lays in bed and Nathaniel can do nothing to help.

When she finally wakes, it’s Aoife who notices first. The mabari, asleep on the floor by her mistress’ side, lifts her head to sniff the air before letting out a joyful bark and leaping onto the bed. She does her best to avoid Sophie’s body, now weak from fighting off the taint, but she can’t help but cover Sophie’s face in slobbery kisses.

Sophie sputters before she realizes what’s happening, and she wraps her arms around Aoife’s neck to pull the warhound down on top of her. Aoife collapses with a huff, happy to cuddle Sophie without having to worry about Nathaniel or Ser Pounce. It’s like it was when they first became friends, and Sophie and Aoife both feel a surge of joy at the realization.

Then Nathaniel is there, on the bed with them too, and Aoife gives the man room to greet Sophie too. His kisses are dryer but no less enthusiastic, kissing Sophie despite Aoife’s drool still on her face.

Aoife decides to give them some privacy and wanders off to find Avernus to make sure the taint is truly gone.

---

They take the directions for making the potion along with two doses with them when they leave Soldier’s Peak. Nathaniel finally relaxes when they get outside the gates, but as they descend the mountain and get an unobstructed view of the sky…

Aoife barks at the green scar in the sky. It seems to shimmer when they stare at it, moving as though alive. Sophie shivers and the hairs on Aoife’s back stand up.

“What is it?” Nathaniel breathes.

Sophie shakes her head. “I don’t even want to guess. Let’s get to Denerim. Alistair will know.”

---

Alistair does know, but he’s furious about it. Sophie and Nathaniel stand in his throne room, hoods still hiding their identities, as he tells them everything they missed while convalescing in Soldier’s Peak.

The Divine Conclave, the explosion, the Breach, the rebel mages taking up residence in and then selling Redcliffe to Tevinter, the Inquisition sealing the Breach with the mages’ help, the attack on Haven, their new home in Skyhold.

“And now,” Alistair huffs, running his fingers through his hair and making the ginger locks stand on end, “the Inquisition is asking for my support when they march on Adamant Fortress. The Wardens are raising a demon army and that puts them in the service of Corypheus too!”

“I knew there was something wrong with the Warden’s plan,” Sophie says, and she pushes her hood back so she can run her fingers through her hair too, nails scratching at her scalp. “We brought the cure, Alistair, and directions to make more. We can help.”

Alistair shakes his head. “I don’t want either of you anywhere near Adamant,” he snaps, and Sophie raises her eyebrows. “We need good Wardens left to help rebuild the Order after this all goes to the Void.”

“We’re not Wardens anymore,” Sophie starts, but the sharp wail of an infant stops her cold.

Everyone turns to look in the direction the cry is coming from. It seems to be growing louder until one of the rear doors of the throne room creaks open and a woman steps through, bouncing a baby against one shoulder.

“Someone wants to see her papa--” the woman starts, and then freezes when she sees Alistair isn’t alone.

His face breaks into a smile that only deepens the new lines around his eyes. “Li,” he says, holding out one hand to her. She squares her shoulders and crosses the room, letting Alistair pull her against his side. The baby is still crying, but stops when Alistair reaches out to stroke her cheek. “This is Sophie Amell and her husband, Nathaniel Howe. Sophie, Nate, this is my wife. Ophelia Cousland.”

Sophie and Nathaniel both bow, and Ophelia blushes bright red. Despite her obvious embarrassment, her voice is calm when she says, “It’s an honor to meet you both. I apologize for interrupting, I didn’t realize--”

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” Sophie says immediately, holding up a hand to stop any more apologies. It isn’t how she should speak to her queen, but Ophelia’s smile only grows. “This is the new princess?"

Alistair beams and takes the baby from Ophelia, turning very carefully so that Sophie and Nathaniel can see. “Princess Elodie Rowena Theirin,” he says, and his face is so full of unbridled joy that Sophie has to bite her tongue to keep the tears from coming to her eyes. “El, meet your godmother.”

“Oh!” Sophie releases a surprised squeak, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Really? Me?”

Ophelia and Alistair exchange a smile before the queen turns to Sophie. “Of course,” she says. “Would you like to hold her?”

Sophie nods and holds out her arms before the question is finished, and Alistair passes Elodie over with the same carefulness he showed before. Sophie cradles the little baby in her arms, grinning at her chubby cheeks and thin dark hair. Elodie opens her eyes to study her godmother, gives an unimpressed yawn, and shoves one fist into her mouth before falling back to sleep.

“Oh, Nate,” Sophie murmurs, and Nathaniel rubs a hand over her back before kissing the top of her head. Sophie blinks away her tears before looking back up at the king and queen. “She’s perfect.”

Alistair beams. “She really is.”

---

Sophie and Nathaniel stay for as long as it takes Alistair to be cured of the taint. He stays unconscious for five and a half days, and Ophelia only leaves his side to care for Elodie. The queen reads to him, plays with his hair, prays for quick healing, and soon her prayers are answered.

Alistair weeps openly when he wakes and doesn’t hear the Calling. He embraces his wife, kisses their baby, and then thanks Sophie and Nathaniel with everything he has.

He still sends them away from Denerim, away from the Inquisition and Adamant, back to Soldier’s Peak.

When Sophie opens her mouth to argue, Nathaniel just wraps his hand around her elbow and pulls until she lets him lead her away.

She’s been in hiding before.

She can do it again.

---

A letter comes a few months later, in Alistair’s own handwriting.

S & N--

The Wardens have left Orlais and Ferelden. Hawke--yes, the Champion of Kirkwall, Maker knows why--lead them from Adamant to Weisshaupt Fortress. I haven’t heard anything else from them since.

I don’t know how much news you’re getting in Soldier’s Peak (I assume none?) but the Inquisition is nearly ready to defeat Corypheus. At least we can hope.

I know you’re not Wardens anymore, but Amaranthine is still yours. You’re the arlessa, and you can stay there until you decide you don’t want it. We can deal with the Wardens when they come back.

Lia is doing great. Little El is smiling and laughing now, and I wish you could see her. I didn’t know I could be so happy.

Write me from Amaranthine.

Sophie begins packing at once.

---

Varel looks equal amounts relieved and annoyed when Sophie, Nathaniel, and Aoife walk into the Vigil together. Regardless of his actual feelings, he leaves his office to greet them in the courtyard. Sophie greets him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, but Nathaniel simply shakes his hand.

They send a messenger to Delilah in Amaranthine to tell her that they’re safe, and they’re healthy and they’re back, and Delilah shows up by herself the next day to yell at them both for disappearing.

---

When the Breach reopens, Nathaniel walks right into Sophie’s office, grabs her hand, and tugs until she follows him out of the building. Every single person in Vigil’s Peak is standing in the courtyard staring up at the sky to the west, staring as the green eddy whirls in the sky over where Haven used to be.

Aoife arrives moments later, Ser Pounce winding his way between her paws as she sits at Sophie’s side. Nathaniel wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her body against his, and kisses her forehead. She allows herself to lean into him, even here in front of everyone, and she sighs.

“We should bring Delilah and Al and the kids here,” she says, but Nathaniel shakes his head.

“She won’t come.” Sophie nods. She didn’t come ten years ago, and she didn’t when the Breach opened, and she won’t now.

It’s true. Once more, all they can do is sit and wait and trust that the Inquisitor can handle this as she’s handled everything else.

---

Nathaniel is jogging through the courtyard when he sees Sophie out of the corner of his eye. She’s in the stable, speaking with the groundskeeper, so he calls out as he slows down.

“Sophie, is something--did you cut your hair?” Nathaniel skids to a stop as he sees Sophie’s tight curls, previously around her shoulders, now cut tight against her scalp.

When she turns to look at him, his breath whooshes out of his lungs. The woman before him is most certainly not his wife, though they could practically be twins. This woman is older, closer to Nate’s own age, with hazel eyes instead of blue and a large burn scar across the left side of her face that extends down her neck and disappears under the collar of her jacket.

He snaps to his duty as the arlessa’s second, controlling his expression and making sure his voice is steady when he asks, “May I help you?”

The woman’s eyes flash as she studies him. “We’re looking for Sophie Amell.”

Nathaniel nods. “The arlessa typically requires an appointment, but--”

She shakes her head and cuts him off. “We’re not from the arling. She’s our sister.” The woman jerks her head at a man standing in the shadows deeper in the stable, and he walks forward until Nathaniel can see him. He’s tall and broad, with hair in short red waves instead of blond curls, but his eyes are the exact same piercing blue as Sophie’s. The Tranquil brand is on his forehead, and Nathaniel’s blood turns cold. “Can you take us to her?”

Nathaniel nods, still controlling his expression. “Of course. If you’ll both follow me?”

The woman nods and gestures for the man to follow them, and Nathaniel leads them through the Vigil up to Sophie’s office. He pushes through the door and walks in without waiting, and she frowns up at him before she sees the people behind him.

She stands slowly, resting her hands on the desk, as Nathaniel steps to her side to give their visitors room to stand in front of her.

The woman speaks first. “Sophie?”

Sophie swallows hard. “Yes?”

The woman takes a step closer. “I’m Elisa. This is Charlie. You’re our baby sister.”

Sophie’s eyes are wide when she looks up at Nathaniel. “My--I don’t remember having a sister.”

Elisa shakes her head. “You wouldn’t. You weren’t even born yet when I was taken to the Kirkwall Circle. You were still a baby when they took Charlie.”

“Kirkwall?” Sophie squeaks. “You were in Kirkwall?” Without intending to, her eyes flicker over Elisa’s scars.

“Yes. I escaped when the Circle fell.” She touches her face and grins a little lopsided smile at Sophie. “I remembered Charlie and Liam, and I tried to find them. The Chantry does not want mages to find their siblings, and it certainly doesn’t want them knowing about their siblings who are heroes or run arlings.”

Sophie’s knees go weak and she sinks into her chair, and Nathaniel reaches for her without a hesitation. “I… I remember Liam,” she breathes. “He… is he here too?”

Elisa’s eyes meet Nathaniel’s and he know, he knows without hearing the words that Liam is gone before they could reunite.

“His Circle was annulled,” Elisa finally says, very quietly, and Sophie just nods.

“Oh.” She looks at Charlie, and her voice is even smaller. “What happened to you, Charlie?”

Charlie blinks at her, processing her question. When he speaks, his voice is the hollow, eerie voice common to all tranquil. “I requested to be made tranquil rather than face my Harrowing,” he says. “It is better this way.”

Elise clenches her jaw and she shakes her head, but she doesn’t correct him. He cannot be argued with, not anymore.

When the silence becomes too thick, Nathaniel takes a deep breath. “You’re both welcome to stay here,” he says. “You’re family.”

“Are we?” Elisa asks, voice sharp but not enough to be considered rude.

Sophie nods as Nathaniel stands. “I’m Nathaniel Howe,” he says. “Sophie’s husband.”

“The Chantry doesn’t allow mages to marry,” Charlie comments, though he doesn’t sound upset. Of course.

“We didn’t ask the Chantry,” Nathaniel says, arching one dark brow.

The silence extends for a heartbeat.

Elise grins. “Nice to meet you, Nathaniel,” she says, and she reaches out toward him with her good hand.

He shakes it and smiles back.

---

Nathaniel goes to bed long before Sophie, leaving her up talking to her sister. They exchange stories from what they remember of their parents, of their brothers, of their Circles growing up. It takes them late into the night before they finally agree to meet for breakfast, and then Sophie slides under the sheets next to her husband.

She cuddles right up against him, rousing him from sleep so that he can roll onto his side to wrap his arms around her.

“Did you have fun with your sister?” he asks, voice muffled both by sleep and by her hair. She nods and presses closer, nuzzling against his neck. He grunts a little and his fingers tighten against her skin when she begins to speak.

“Yes,” she says, and then she pauses to brush a kiss across his collarbone. “Thank you for bringing her to me.” She kisses him again, this time on his throat, and she smiles when she feels him shiver.

Nathaniel clears his throat, more awake now, and he tilts his chin up. “I just brought them in from the courtyard,” he says, but his voice catches when he feels her teeth against his skin.

“You’ve been my family for a long time now,” here another pause, another kiss. “I thought it might just always be us, and your sister’s family, but now I have siblings too.” Her hand slides up his bare side to tangle in Nathaniel’s hair, tilting his head back more so she can spread more kisses along his neck. “Our family is finally growing, Nate. I couldn’t be happier.”

Distracted as he is by the way she’s still kissing and leaving little nibbling bites across his skin, he doesn’t realize she’s said anything more than a thank you until her hand leaves his hair to take his hand. She moves it, not to her breast as she does so often, but to her stomach.

“Sophie?” Her name, a question that he can’t speak, passes his lips, and she laughs. It’s a light, airy sound, more joyful than any other he’s heard from her in a long time.

She moves her hand to cup his jaw, fingers rasping through the stubble on his cheeks, but his hand stays where she placed it. “It’s been three months. I think it’s really happening, Nate.”

He closes the distance between them to press his lips to hers, cutting off her joyful laughter. He rolls them, pinning her beneath him with his hips against hers. When he breaks away from her, he props up on one elbow so he can run his fingers through her hair. “Were you going to tell me?”

She shifts beneath him, getting more comfortable, and hooks one leg around his. “Of course. I just wanted to wait until I could be sure. Are you happy?”

He has to laugh at that question. “I’ve never been happier, Sophie. Thank you.”

When he kisses her this time, he prays that he can feel the love he’s felt for her since their first weeks in Amaranthine together, the love that’s only grown as they’ve fought side by side for survival and their country and for each other.

He loves her. And he’s never been happier.

#sophie amell #nathaniel howe #self indulgence au #my writing #2017 writing #sorry for the long delay folks #it's all finished!

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