#but rosalyn is willing to let it lie

[rozaceous]

mrs george's husband is named harold specifically so that the joke can be made later, when rosalyn tells mrs george abt vivienne, mrs george says to her husband, "oh harold, thank GOD. she's a LESBIAN. i thought bruce had suckered her into bed."

Hopefully this doesn’t come across as weird, I don’t know if I missed a post where you explicitly stated it, but what’s the pairing for the phd au? (Sorry for bugging you if I did miss something obvious)

Is it Vivienne/Bruce/Rosalyn, Vivienne/Rosalyn, Vivienne/(a goddamned vacation)?

not weird at all--there was a LOT that just got dumped lol

(asking is mutual enrichment in the enclosure, etc etc etc questions always welcome!)

to clarify, phd au -> now phd-verse (preferred hill to die on) is everything that's my DC SIOC(s) bc there's 4 fics (2 au's along w 2 main fics) in the series and at least 3 fleshed-out ones in combo with roz, so i wanna contain all my loredump in one tag

the new au in the 'verse and how it intersect roz's series (we're gonna figure something out if it takes all night) is a number of different selves or 'ands'

=

the pairing is vivienne/bruce/rosalyn with dubious vivienne/rosalyn ???? (they went u-haul lesbian status and are so domestic and qpt and the funny bit is, who knows? none of anyone else's business 🙂), and bruce freaking out that he's either getting between them or cheating on both of them simultaneously

=

i think the funniest thing is roz and me realizing that vivienne and rosalyn need to be older than bruce. just a bit

=

@rozaceous hand off, anything to add?

[chaosride]

A Divine Appointment (x7)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

“You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance.” — Franklin P. Jones

Their next weekly Wicked Grace night was interesting. Anders had tried to beg off with the reasoning of not wanting to leave the kids alone all night at the clinic, and Varric had easily told him to bring the kids with him. Anders had expected Norah to run them off, as the owner had made it clear that the Hanged Man was a place for drinking and gambling. However that night Norah had just waved them through towards the stairs to Varric’s quarters. At Anders’ questioning look, Norah shrugged.

“New management,” was all she told him.

It was really all the explanation needed; the Hanged Man changed hands so often between the shadier figures of Kirkwall’s underground that they were under new management every other week it seemed. It was something that made Varric rhapsodize about how the Hanged Man deserved a better owner, someone who knew what they were doing and deserved her. It was no secret that the someone the dwarf had in mind was himself. Anders hoped he wouldn’t be too irritable about it tonight- it made him ruthless in cards.

Varric, however, was cheerful as ever when they got to his room. Hawke, Fenris and Isabela were already there. Aveline was going to come later after her patrol and had asked to bring Donnic along. They chatted as Anders settled at the table with them, allowing the twins to sit in his lap when neither would tolerate being put down. He rolled his eyes as Isabela cooed at them but allowed Cahir to go to her regardless. Primarily because he knew who the boy was really wanting to go to. He chuckled when Isabela called Cahir a traitor when he immediately began squirming in her hold, trying to get to Fenris. The elf let out a very put upon sigh but he was smiling when he took Cahir from her.

“You are very determined, I’ll give you that,” Fenris told Cahir.

The boy had settled down once in Fenris’ lap. Anders determinedly did not stare at them together; Cahir was skittish and didn’t like to be held by many people. He sought out even fewer as actively as he went to Fenris anytime the warrior was around. The sight of them made Anders want things to be different, despite the fact that he had more than he ever expected to. So instead he determinedly pulled the tie free from Cat’s hair and rebraided her curly red hair so it was away from her little face. Anders had learned if he didn’t she would pull at it until it came out in clumps in her small fists.

The mage had worried that the kids would get bored, but he supposed he should have known better. The entire group had learned to sit still and entertain themselves in order to avoid unneeded attention. Even the twins, young as they were, seemed to have learned it, sitting quietly with them at the table and watching them play with curious eyes. Tanner, Rosalyn and Bree had settled on the open stretch of floor a little away from the table, talking quietly amongst themselves as they played some game they had created with pebbles Tanner had produced from his pocket. Raelnor had sat with them at the table at Hawke’s merry invitation for him to join the game.

Anders had thought the entire walk over that he should bring something for them to do but he didn’t have anything. At the clinic they normally chased each other around or played games together but unlike other children they didn’t get loud or unruly without his attention on them really. The older of the kids had become quite adept at entertaining their younger siblings when no adults were around to mind the toddlers, and with them occupied were happy to sit quietly together all evening.

In the end they hadn’t even made it through an entire round before it clearly bothered Varric too much to continue. He laid his cards down despite it being his turn and stood up.

“Y’know, I got a cousin who owns a toy shop, I’m sure I’ve got some of his stuff around here,” he had said.

To anyone who didn’t know him, it would have been a convincing lie but Anders knew there wasn’t a single member of Varric’s family with any such business. The lie was confirmed with how quickly the rogue located the box of toys he presented to the children to go through. Raelnor was watching him with the same puzzled face he used to direct at Anders; bafflement at someone doing them a kindness with no expectation of anything in return.

Bree, the sweetheart that she was, had brought over a small selection of toys for the twins to choose from, showing first Cat then Cahir the ones she had thought they would like. Cahir had latched onto a small rattle drum which he clumsily waved until Fenris gently corrected his grip and showed him how to roll it between his palms to make the small beads hit the drum more consistently. Cat’s choice had been a carved wooden horse with wings and little wheels attached to its hooves. As she rolled it back and forth on the table in front of him, Anders resigned himself to picking it up a thousand times throughout the night as she lost her grip on it. Once content that the twins had gotten something as well, Bree returned to Tanner and Rosalyn. The dwarven boy was showing Rosalyn how to make the top spin with a practiced hand, and gave a proud grin when the girls exclaimed at how long he got it to spin.

Pleased with himself, Varric retook his seat and took his turn. He shrugged his shoulders amicably at Anders’ knowing look without a hint of shame. The healer wasn’t going to complain; he knew the kids needed toys, they just weren’t expenses he could afford. Technically he couldn’t afford to feed himself and seven kids but he was making it work. Mostly.

“So, you had any luck?” Hawke asked Raelnor, who had been sullenly studying his cards.

Raelnor had been moody and temperamental since he had lost his job at the docks. Burgess had been upset that Fenris had interrupted the fights. He had even accused Raelnor of setting him up since someone had massively outbid him at the last moment before the fights and took the entire betting pool in result.

Raelnor had pointed out that he didn’t exactly have the money to place a big enough bet to more than double Burgess’ bet, which was what it would have taken for the mystery gambler to take all the winnings from the betting rather than just a portion. He had bit his tongue to avoid mentioning that without Burgess setting the rule of the whole pot going to the top bet if it was more than twice the second highest bet to benefit himself, he wouldn’t have lost everything. Of course, he had been correct but it hadn’t helped him keep his job.

Anders couldn’t blame his sour mood- Raelnor had spent years knowing he had to make money for any of them to survive, the only one besides Delilah remotely old enough to work a regular job.  Every person that turned him away was a personal failure to Raelnor, no matter how Anders told him they would figure it out. The assurance that there were people around now who would make sure the kids didn’t starve only served to make the teenager complain of feeling useless, like deadweight.

Anders mourned the childhood the boy had clearly given up in favor of caring for the younger children. He wished he could tell Raelnor not to worry about money or finding another job even as he knew logically they needed the extra income for food and necessities for the kids.

“Nothing yet. The only place willing to hire Fereldans, much less one as young as me, is the Bone Pit-”

“I would rather pay to not have to go there,” Varric said.

“Bad news, that place,” Isabela agreed.

“Yeah, don’t take that,” Hawke told him.

“But my overbearing mum told me I would not be working there under any circumstances,” Raelnor finished. He scowled at his hand of cards and set it down face up to show he was folding.

“Yes I did,” Anders told him. “I would rather you not be turned into mincemeat by giant spiders or blighted dragons, Rae,” he began, which the boy waved away dismissively. It was an argument they had revisited a few times since the subject came up.

“Yeah, yeah, like I said mum here said I couldn’t take that one so I’m still looking.”

“Well, that’s good, then,” Varric told Raenor. “It would mean you can’t come to work for me. Think you can handle serving food during the day here?”

“What? You can’t seriously be offering to pay me to come run and tote for you all day.”

“Well, Norah works nights here and they’re going to start serving more meals during the day.”

“Ah, Varric, I know you basically run it but I don’t think you can just offer him a job here.”

The dwarf grinned, the kind he only wore when he was especially proud of whatever trickery he had managed. Usually when one upping petty criminals or raining fire on unsuspecting enemies with Bianca from the backlines.

“Oh, I didn’t mention? I recently came into possession of a little something that gives me a bit more say about what happens here than before.”

Oh, Anders thought, remembering the look Norah had given him earlier when he came in with the children.

“You’re the new management.”

“Aw Blondie, why did you have to steal my thunder? I wanted to deliver it all dramatically,” Varric pouted. When Anders just raised an eyebrow he chuckled and confirmed, “yeah, I’m the new management.”

“Good on you Varric!” Hawke praised.

“Now you can stop bringing it up to Aveline,” Fenris said.

“I know, she was no help.”

“You’re who out bet Burgess,” Raelnor realized.

“The bookie who he had working the fights is an old friend of mine, he was happy to tell me how much he bet and lied about who I betted for. Figured he wouldn’t give you a fair cut even if you did take the dive for him. Sorry if I caused any trouble for you, kid.”

For the first time since being fired, Raelnor’s laugh was raucous and sincere.

“He only scheduled me for that fight because he figured he would kill me. Fuck that blighted nug-”

“Rae, language,” Anders scolded, mainly because all of the younger kids would no doubt repeat what he said, all eager to emulate their older brother. He tried to ignore how Fenris stifled his chortle into his drink he had been raising to his lips.

“Sorry, mum,” Raelnor said, still beaming. Varric winked at him.

“Can you start tomorrow at noon?”

“Yes sir!”

“Good to hear, you’ve got the job, on one condition.”

Raelnor hesitated, his eyes flicking to Anders then Fenris and back to Varric.

“Which is?” he asked nervously.

“No more fighting for money.”

“Done,” Raelnor said immediately. He had already promised Anders (and a tearful Bree) the same thing the morning after his last fight.

“Alright, I’ll show you around tomorrow. Welcome aboard.”

“Anders, we found one of your kids on our patrol,” Aveline called as soon as she and Donnic arrived. Delilah waved at them meekly at the mage when she followed the guardswoman in, Donnic bringing up the rear.

“I thought you were staying at the Rose tonight?” Anders asked her.

Delilah had a bunk there along with some of the other girls where she usually stayed after her shift. She would usually come to the clinic around midmorning to spend time with the kids, taking them out into town or bringing them odds and ends she thought they needed. She had been steadfastly stubborn about not needing anything, to give to the kids instead.

“I changed my mind, was hoping you wouldn’t mind me bunking with the kids tonight. I was fine waiting at the clinic but, uh,” she floundered, and looked at the guard-captain.

“Aveline,” the redheaded woman provided kindly, smiling. “I insisted.”

“Thanks Aveline. Delilah, you can stay whenever you like,” Anders told her.

“You know how to play Wicked Grace?” Isabela asked her.

“Boy, do I.”

---

Delilah continued to stay her nights at the clinic once she was off work. Working at the Blooming Rose usually meant she crept in during the early morning hours. The first few days she looked surprised to find that Anders had waited up for her, but after a few times she seemed to grow used to it. They had established a tradition of sorts; Anders would stop working on his manifesto for the evening when she arrived and they would brew tea and discuss their days before both going to bed.

It was a nice routine, and Anders hadn’t had quite enough of those in his life. Delilah had been very polite and distant at the start, even offering to pay Anders for watching the children. He was just glad she seemed to be warming up to him.

She seemed extra tired tonight though. It was later than she normally got home and Delilah was walking favoring one leg. Anders had noticed that something seemed to be going on with her; something that had made her stop feeling safe enough to sleep at the Rose and jump at corners. He wasn’t sure it was his place to push her though. The other children had been all but officially adopted as his charges. Even Raelnor had come around.

“Sorry, healer, you didn’t have to wait up for me,” she told him softly.

“I didn’t even realize how late it was,” Anders lied. “Here, come sit down and I’ll make us some tea.”

Her smile was weak but sincere. Anders put the lid on his inkwell (improvised, a necessity with kids running around and bumping into the desk) and put his work and quill away. He gave his knee a brisk rub before he got up. From how it and his elbow ached, it was going to storm soon. Delilah watched him as he gathered the tea pot and filled it with water.

“Healer, I can do it,” she said, getting up.

Anders flapped a hand at her and continued with making tea. Rather than the normal tea he normally made, he dug out the last of the mix he had made to help with pain. It was a little bitter but it did the trick. He winced when he stepped wrong and felt the bolt of pain shoot all the way up through his hip.

“Healer,” Delilah protested but Anders was already leveraging himself to sit in his chair in front of the fire beside her, the water coming to boil hanging in the fireplace.

“How many times have I told you to just call me Anders?”

“It just feels weird,” Delilah admitted.

Anders rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. Delilah had tried to call him messere or serah at first but he had finally got her to stop doing that. Maybe one day she would refer to him by something other than a title but every step closer felt nice regardless.

“Guess you could be calling me mum instead,” Anders conceded.

Delilah giggled and glanced towards the back of the clinic where the rest of the kids were resting. Her expression was fond, if not a touch sad. She got up to get the teapot from its hook before Anders could once the water inside could be heard boiling. Delilah poured their cups with a practiced hand and set the tea in it to steep.

“Sorry if that bothers you,” she told him once she had sat back down. “Rae means it in a good way. His dad was terrible and wasn’t around much but he had his mum, even if she spent more time drinking and wailing on him than taking care of him. She’s basically his only concept of a parent, he probably never even considered calling you anything else. He just calls his dad William.”

“It doesn’t bother me. My father… wasn’t the best, usually so I understand that,” Anders admitted. He picked up his cup but didn’t drink from it, content to let its warmth leech into his hands.

“What… ah, you can tell me if it’s out of bound, but what was it like growing up?”

She asked so hesitantly that Anders found that he wanted to answer more than he wished to avoid thinking about his parents or the life he had had, all those years ago. Usually remembering it made him feel lonely and like he was twelve years old again, cut loose and thrown to the wolves.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-” Delilah began to backtrack, her dark brows furrowed.

“No, sorry, it’s fine. I’m an only child, my parents moved out of the Anderfels to a small Fereldan village when I was very young, and we had a farm there. My mother was a caring soul, and she wanted more children but couldn’t have them. My dad was from a large family that was mainly still scattered all over the Anderfels. He was… bitter a lot because he was homesick. I remember I tried to learn his native language, and called him Táta when I was younger. I thought maybe it would make it… easier. It would be something special we shared, like my ma teaching me about healing. Eventually he told me to stop calling him that and just call him father. I think I disappointed him. His only son, flamboyant and more interested in cats and my mother’s garden of herbs than anything he considered boyish. He was the one who turned me into the Templars. I guess I should have just been happy that I had evaded the Circle as long as I had.”

Anders took a sip of his tea even though it was still much too hot for his taste. It helped force down the knot in his throat even if he still felt a bit like crying. He always felt like this when discussing his father; wistful for what could have been, if Anders hadn’t been so… Anders, shamed that he had not been enough for his own father, mournful and angry in equal measures with the cold, distant man who had wanted to love him so badly. His father had been sad under it all, plagued by darkness Anders could not have understood. More than once as a child when he had gone to his father in search of affection or comfort and had been turned away. Anders had sworn he would be a better father. As he had grown, Anders realized that perhaps his own father was a sign he shouldn’t be one himself. He often drowned in his own feelings of helplessness and desolation, he didn’t want to risk a child suffering for it.

Delilah reached to him and carefully tugged one hand from his cup to fold in her own.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. For him to turn you in, Maker it’s awful,” she whispered. “I was lucky in some ways I think, since I never knew who my da was. I was just another brothel brat, and all the girls looked after all of us kids as their own.”

“Is that how you and the kids found each other?”

She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Our village avoided the worst of the blight, it was kind of out of the way, but a horde of Darkspawn were pushing in. The… Andraste, some of the villagers got the idea that if they locked the gate from the alienage to the rest of the city and set it on fire, everyone running out the other gate onto the road into the village would draw the Darkspawn that way and they could defend the village.”

“Did it work?”

“I didn’t stick around to find out. I just remember seeing some of the kids running and jumped the gate. Raelnor and I grew up together and he followed me over when he saw me go. We saved what kids we could and ran. Bree and Rosalyn ended up staying with us, we were going to get them to safety but that… didn’t end up happening. We met Tanner when we were passing through Denerim. He asked for help because he didn’t know where to get milk that was safe for babies to drink. The twins had been abandoned outside the local chantry with a note that just had their names. But the chantry didn’t have space for babies or the resources, especially after how hard the blight had hit them and Tanner… he refused to leave the twins even when everyone else in his travelling party moved on. They told him they didn’t have the money to take care of them so he stayed and did it, as best as he could. His parents were killed by Darkspawn, he ended up with other refugees from his village. In the end, we wound up on a boat here looking for some of the people he had been travelling with who said they were coming to Kirkwall but we never found them. Everything else is kinda history I guess,” she shrugged. “I know a lot of people think I’m stupid for staying here and taking care of them but I couldn’t just leave them. We’re a family now, after everything.”

Anders smiled and squeezed her hand. “Yes, you are a family. All those who think you’re stupid are the dumb ones. It’s admirable to do for others with no ulterior motive. You have a good heart, Delilah.”

She blushed and looked away from him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything other than how little they were. Bree was so small then. I mean, she’s still small but she was tiny. I picked her up and she weighed basically nothing. I just… couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. I wasn’t trying to be a good person, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to them.”

“Because you’re a good person, sweetheart,” Anders told her.

She smiled some to herself before carefully pulling her hand back and taking to her own tea. They finished their drinks together, the silence comfortable and contemplative. The warmth from the tea seemed to fill him at his core and slowly the pain ebbed away. He hadn’t even realized the heat of the fire on his skin and the familiar hissing crackle had lulled him into a light doze until he felt Delilah’s lips touch his forehead.

“Night, ta, thank you,” she murmured before creeping away.

He listened to her as she got things settled before slipping back into their sectioned off sleeping area, a smile he couldn’t fight off gracing his face. The healer had planned to get up and bank the fire before turning in for the night himself. Instead when he awoke it was the Cat squealing in joy the next morning. Someone had covered him with a blanket and couldn’t even be upset about being woken up when Tanner was so apologetic about it. His kids were worth more than any amount of missed sleep.

---

It was inevitable that Hawke would need him for an overnight trip. She had agreed to look into demons that were coming from one of the caves near where the Sabrae clan had set up. With how long of a trek it was, they had never managed to make it back before nightfall and always had to make camp along the path back. But Hawke wanted a healer along with them and Anders needed some of the rarer herbs that only flourished on Sundermount.

Of course, that didn’t make it any easier to leave the children. He had given Rosalyn the key to the clinic so they could lock up if they left and had told them where to leave it when they went to bed so Delilah could get in. He had asked Varric to check on them and even accepted Aveline’s offer for Donnic to swing by during his patrol to make sure they were alright as well. He had made sure Tanner and Rosalyn knew where they kept the extra coin stashed in case they needed it. None of it eased the anxiety of leaving them to fend for themselves without him.

“Go, ta, we got it,” Tanner had assured him when he mentioned telling Hawke he would send her with extra healing potions, that he just couldn’t go overnight. He considered asking about the new nickname the kids (except Raelnor) had adopted for him but let it slide. At least they had stopped just calling him healer.

Varric knocked on Fenris’ door in the late afternoon. When he first saw Varric waiting for him his heart had rabbitted in his chest, sure that something was wrong. He couldn’t think of another reason for the rogue to come calling for him when Hawke was out of town for the night.

“What’s happened?” he asked immediately.

Varric chortled at him and raised his hands in a soothing gesture.

“Calm down Broody, there’s no fire. I just figured since I’m going to check on your children you should come along,” the dwarf cajoled.

“They’re not my children, they’re the mage’s children,” Fenris answered, but stepped out of the mansion to follow him regardless. He hadn’t even considered the logistics of where the children would be while Anders was away. Just another reason they weren’t his children; he wasn’t suited to looking after others.

“Whatever you say, elf.”

Fenris had expected they would go to the clinic and find the children inside, or perhaps playing on the landing just in front of it as they often did. They met Donnic coming down from Lowtown, apparently given the same task as them by his wife. The man didn’t look too put out by it though, laughing and joking with them as they made their way through the slums.

Rather than the sound of Rosalyn’s distinct tinkling laughter or Bree shouting or even one of the twin’s excited baby talk, there was the sound of a child crying. Fenris heard it first and took off in a run, hearing Varric’s surprised shout at his sudden departure and the clattering of Donnic’s armor as he hurried to catch up.

When he rounded the corner, his heart calmed some to see all five of the younger children sitting against the wall just outside the clinic’s doors. Rosalyn’s face was buried in her knees as she wailed, Tanner rubbing her back with a contrite expression.

Cahir was the first to notice Fenris approaching and called out, “Da!” to him excitedly just as Donnic and Varric rounded the corner. Varric complained about how fast he was when they caught, practically panting. Fenris made a note to tease the dwarf about being out of shape later.

Once he knew what was wrong with his kids. The mage’s kids, he meant.

“What’s wrong?” Fenris asked Rosalyn when she looked up at him with wet eyes.

Her face scrunched up again before she could speak and she let out a small hiccuping sob. The warrior found himself wrong footed and unsure how to proceed; danger and fighting were more his forte, crying girls and children not so much. He wasn’t sure what to say to calm her but clearly she was upset and needed something. Fenris would have given her anything to wipe away her devastated expression.

“It’s okay,” he said gently. “Tell me what has happened and I will do what I can to rectify it.”

“T-the healer gave me the k-key to hold onto but I lost,” she choked out before sniffling miserably. “It’s his only one, he’s going to be so mad. He told me he was giving it to me because he t-trusted me with it and-” she sobbed again.

“Well that’s not the end of the world, sweetheart,” Donnic told her.

Rosalyn looked up at the guardsman.

“B-but I lost it, and…”

“No one’s hurt or dying, the sky isn’t falling, the clinic isn’t on fire, and all of you are together,” Donnic told her in a calm voice. He knelt and ruffled her hair.

“If you know about where you lost it we can ask around and see if anyone found it, if not we can retrace your steps and look for it,” Fenris offered when she looked at him.

“Even if someone did pick it up they would have no way to know which door in the city it opened,” Varric agreed. “Not to mention I can just pick the lock to let you in and replace the lock.”

“Oh! We know right where it is we just can’t… uh… get to it,” Bree told them. “You’ll help us, right da?”

Fenris looked to Varric and Donnic, unsure who the girl was addressing only to find them both aiming what Fenris could only describe as shit-eating grins at him. Oh, she means me, he recognized. Looked like he would probably be best keeping his taunts about Varric’s stamina to himself for a bit.

"Yes, we'll help you," he told Bree, already resigned to his fate.

“How ?”

Fenris felt a little bad for his incredulous tone when Rosalyn hiccuped and sniffled behind him but really how she had managed to drop the key where she had eluded Fenris. Over a wall and down the side of the steep rock Kirkwall was built into and on top of, of all things. The kids hadn’t been wrong; they had taken them straight to the key. It taunted them from a jutting section of wall built out to take the brunt of the waves that crashed against Kirkwall’s walls. Occasionally the light winked off it whenever the clouds weren’t hiding the slowly setting sun.

“Cahir saw a bird,” she offered meekly.

All three of the adults stepped away from the low wall they had been leaning over to peer down at the key to turn and look at her more fully. Ironically they were within eyesight of the clinic’s door still.

“Cahir… saw a bird…” Fenris repeated slowly, feeling his eyebrow raise in question against his will.

“He’s been fussy all day and didn’t want to be carried, but if we let him down he ran off. There was a bird here, and he saw it and tried to grab it. Tanner was holding him but he was so wriggly that when he jumped Tanner couldn’t catch him. I did but I forgot… I forgot I was holding the key and it flew out of my hand. I just panicked! I… the spikes, and no one else was close- I had-”

“I see,” Fenris said, nodding. “Things happen, we will figure it out. Cahir is more important than the key,” and he didn’t even want to imagine the boy managing to land on the rusty spikes that lined the outer half walls of Darktown’s walkways.

“Told you,” Tanner told her, “Cahir would have gotten really hurt, I knew they would listen and not be mad, Ros.”

“No, you didn’t, you just said we might as well tell the truth because they would find out.”

“Shh,” the dwarven boy said but wouldn’t look at any of them. “You could have told them I dropped it, I told you.”

“No one’s in trouble,” Fenris assured. “We just have to find a way to get the key now, alright?”

They weren’t going to be able to get the key. It was too far down with no real path to get to it. The three men had stood for a long time discussing ways of getting it before they had given up on the idea. They had discussed trying to hook with something or even getting a boat and going at it from the water. In the end, none of their ideas got them any closer to the elusive key. They had nothing that they would use with any accuracy to snag it and pull it back up, and any boat they would have been smashed agaisnt the rocks around the outcropping of rocks. Their plan of picking the lock itself and simply replacing it was dashed too as one by one Varric broke every lockpick he had in it, growling and cursing the entire time.

“If we got some rope one of us could rappel down to it,” Varric suggested.

“Are you going to go down after it?”

“I know us dwarves are small but we’re dense. There’s no way I would get down without falling, not to mention back up. Donnic? Dashing rescues are supposed to be your thing, just pop on down and grab the key.”

“I’m in full plate armor, I’m pretty sure the rope would snap if I tried. Fenris could go, he’s the lightest of us.”

“I’m able to pass through solid objects, not scale vertical walls,” Fenris informed them drolly when both the rogue and the guardsman looked to him. They stood in silence for a moment and Fenris glanced back at the clinic door. “I can kick that door down though.”

Varric considered it for a moment, tapping his index finger on his chin contemplatively.

“I got a guy that can replace it today,” he agreed.

Donnic perked up. “We have spare locks at the Keep we can install. They’re replacements for the ones on the main entrance to the Keep, so they’re sturdy. And come with more than one key.”

“Okay, so new plan,” Varric said and clapped his hands before giving out orders.

The new door looked almost too nice as it set into its new frame, out of place in dingy Darktown, but there was no questioning it was sturdy. Much more secure than the one Anders had had previous, and could be locked from the inside instead of just the outside, unlike its predecessor. To lock up for the night, Anders had rigged some kind of bar and chain across the door from the inside.

“Sorry about all the trouble,” Rosalyn told them all over dinner. Donnic had left to finish his patrol after helping them install the new lock but had returned for supper and had even brought sweets back for the children to have for dessert. They had all been ecstatic when presented with them, something Fenris made a note to bring them more of.

“We’ve been harping Blondie to change that door for months,” Varric dismissed, “really I should be thanking you for giving me a reason to just take care of it.”

Rosalyn smiled some down at her food and allowed Bree to pull her into whatever the kids were discussing so seriously. Fenris half listened to them, mainly happy that they were all at ease again and there were no more tears.

“Oh, were you two there when Aveline said something to Isabela about the dinner party? She was pretty hurt about her not coming and said she told her about it but I’m not sure I believe her. You know Ave,” Donnic asked them once it was clear the children were absorbed in their own discussion.

Varric snorted. “Oh man were we. Your wife can be ruthless, told Bela that if you two ever had kids together who asked what a slattern was, she’d just point at her and tell them ‘that’s a slattern.’ In the middle of Hightown.”

Donnic’s laugh was startled and boomed out of him.

“Yeah, that sounds like her,” he agreed.

“What’s a slattern?” Bree asked innocently, her head cocked to the side.

“Uh, nothing you need to worry about,” Varric said at the same time Donnic said “you’ll find out when you’re older.”

Both answers just made Bree pout but she dropped it anyway. Fenris hoped she didn’t ask Anders about the word later, as the mage had been persistent about them not cussing around the children. Evidently hearing Tanner call something “absolute blighted nugshit” had been a bit of a wake up call to how much they listened and repeated what the adults said.

After dinner, Varric had said his goodbyes and mentioned he would send Raelnor home with his own key once he got back to the Hanged Man. The boy had been enjoying his new job, especially since he got tips on top of his hourly wages. Donnic mentioned that he had to get home to clean before Aveline got back the next day. Before long it was just Fenris and the children. The elf was tidying up the clinic and trying to convince himself to leave for the night as well when Bree tugged on his shirt.

“Will you stay tonight, da?” she asked him. He wanted to dissuade her from calling him that but couldn’t bear to say anything when she was looking at him with wide earnest eyes. “Please?”

“Yes, fine, but you need to start getting ready for bed. It’s getting late.”

“Okay but you have to tuck me in!”

Bree grinned and scurried away to do as he said without waiting for an answer. Fenris sighed and surveyed the cots available to sleep on for the night. He supposed he should have guessed that he wouldn’t have the heart to return the mansion and leave them alone for the evening. He was just starting to put bedding on one when Raelnor came in and regarding him with a confused face.

“Just sleep in mum’s bed, it’s not like he’ll mind,” he had told Fenris, “those cots are tiny, you’ll never sleep on ‘em comfortably.”

“Da! I’m ready for bed, come tuck me in?” Bree interrupted. She tugged at his hand and Fenris followed her back to the children’s makeshift room, Raelnor’s chuckle following him as the teenager sat at their little table with his own dinner.

Rosalyn was sitting on the edge of the twins’ cot with a book open in her hands. She looked at him in surprise when he came in.

“Da’s tucking us in tonight,” Bree informed them and clambered into her own cot.

“Oh, did you want to read to us then?” Rosalyn offered, and held out the book. It looked well worn with it’s yellowing pages and cracked spine.

“Sorry, I can’t,” he told her.

“O-oh, right, sorry. We’re not your kids, um, everyone say goodnight and thank you,” she said even as her little voice wobbled with tears at being turned away. Fenris laid a hand on her skinny shoulder even as he refused to look at any of them.

“I wouldn’t mind reading to you, I just… can’t. I can’t read,” he admitted, something he had taken pains for even his friends to not know coming out easy when he knew it would comfort the girl. “I will stay and listen though, and I believe I did promise to tuck everyone in.”

He settled down in the rickety chair that was undoubtedly there for Anders to sit in and read to them nightly. Fenris wondered what he sounded like, reading to the children every night. With his expressive face and array of voices, Fenris imagined Anders was a good storyteller for children’s stories.

Rosalyn read a chapter to them from the book, something about a princess escaping a curse from what Fenris caught. The twins were asleep by the end of the first page, and when Rosalyn softly closed the book Fenris looked around and realized that all of the younger kids were out like lights. He tugged Bree’s blanket up to her chin, tucked Tanner’s more firmly around his feet and made sure the twins were not at risk of rolling out of their bed in the middle of the night while Rosalyn extinguished their lantern.

“I can teach you,” Rosalyn whispered to him as she got into her own bed, the book safely put away with a small collection of other books and toys shoved into the corner. “How to read, I mean. I used to teach the kids in the alienage, and some of their parents too. If you want, it’s okay if not, you may want someone else to teach you or-”

“Ros,” Fenris said to get her attention. He knelt beside her cot and brushed her hair back from her worried face. “That sounds very nice, thank you. I would love for you to teach me.”

If I am teachable, Fenris bit back. Rosalyn smiled at him and laid down. He settled her blanket around her shoulders and smoothed her hair back before standing and sliding out from behind the curtain.

Raelnor had put away the bedding he had set out on the cot and jerked his thumb at the door to Anders’ cupboard of a room. He didn’t go back to his cot with his siblings until Fenris had slipped into it and abandoned the thought of sleeping out on the cot.

“What happened ?” Anders asked as soon as he saw the new door the next day.

“Cahir saw a bird,” Bree told him sagely. Around her the other children nodded with serious expressions on their little faces and Anders could only sigh. At least the clinic was cleaner than it was when he left, he supposed.

(leave kudos and comments here please ♥)

[darkrootking]

Only in Memories

The celebration of the Victory of Goblin Fortress (a name Ferran was enthusiastically trying to sell them all on) went long into the evening. The goblins were thrilled to be free, and in the presence of at least three people they considered rulers. A position Sophie accepted with pleasure, Rosalyn with humility, and Cronan with equal amounts of gratitude and discomfort. He didn’t feel worthy of the adoration the goblins heaped upon him. Not after everything he had done to them and their home. Sure, most of his actions hadn’t been truly his own, but the guilt still weighed heavily on him. His hands had zapped most of these tiny people at some point, even if he now regretted it. He was shocked they were so willing to let it go. That anyone was. He felt blessed that his new friends were so ready to believe him sincere. His actions during the battle spoke for themselves, he supposed. Still, he was quieter than usual during the party, and excused himself to bed early.

“I think the shadow creature took more out of me than I realized.” It wasn’t a lie. He still felt drained, his energy not quite replenished. “Same here.” Azari slouched in her seat. “We’ll probably be right behind you.” Cronan nodded in parting, accidentally making eye contact with Rosalyn when he straightened. The lack of hostility in her gaze… He didn’t think he deserved that, either. He averted his eyes, hiding an ashamed blush with his hair, and headed inside. The goblins had offered them use of their inn for the night. Everything was a bit miniature, as if built for a child, but it would do. Even if Cronan bumped his head on the doorframe trying to duck under it. And had to fold his cloak three different ways before he managed to hang it in the wardrobe without wrinkling it. And couldn’t fit his feet on the bed without curling up. For the first time in Sisters knew how many years, Cronan found he wasn’t in the mood to complain. Actually, now that the joy and excitement of regaining his friends and freedom had faded somewhat, he felt… oddly numb. The shock, he assumed, or the exhaustion. It had been such a long and dramatic day. And dangerous. There were many moments where any of them could have been seriously hurt. Or worse. Rosalyn, Emily, Ashwing… At least everyone was alive. Well, almost everyone. Cronan pushed that line of thought away roughly, settling in for sleep. He reached automatically for his amulet, his stomach dropping when his hand met nothing but shirt. Right. His amulet was gone. Numbness turning slowly into something else, Cronan shoved the feelings down again and tried to sleep. He was so tired, not even the looming thoughts at the edge of his mind could keep him awake.

—————————————————————————————-

The faint sounds of a struggle roused Emily from her slumber. She turned bleary eyes on Sophie lying beside her, relaxing when she saw that her sister was sound asleep. But then what was… A muffled shout from the next room answered her question. Cronan. A light rumble of the walls prompted her to go check on him. A soft knock and whisper of “Cronan? Are you okay?” got no reply. She entered the room, blanket drawn around her like a cape. Cronan was sprawled out on the bed, feet overhanging, blankets and pillows on the floor, making distressed noises with his eyes squeezed shut. “No!” He flailed in his sleep, a faint arc of magic escaping his hand as he tried to fight some imaginary force. “Don’t go… Please… Mother…” Emily came as close as she dared, not wanting to get zapped. “Cronan?! It’s okay, Cronan, you’re all right!” Her presence only seemed to make him worse. He gave a pained whimper, cold sweat plastering his hair against his face. On impulse, Emily started singing her grandmother’s lullaby under her breath. It’d always helped her when she was having a bad dream, and it seemed like most elves knew it too. Cronan slowly stilled as she sang, magic dissipating enough for Emily to get close and pet his head. His hair was gross and sweaty, but that didn’t matter as much as helping him. “You’re okay, Cronan, it’s all right…” Cronan had completely relaxed by the time she finished the song. Emily let out a breath and turned to leave. “…How do you know the song?” Cronan asked very quietly. She turned. “My grandma used to sing it to us.” He swallowed, blinking up at her. “…My mother used to… My mother… I dreamed… She…” That was as far as he got before he broke down, curling in on himself and sobbing. Emily sat on the bed and put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t shrug her off either. They stayed like that for a long while, Cronan bawling into his elbow and Emily silently keeping him company. She sensed that this wasn’t a hurt she could smooth over with words or songs. It felt like an hour before his crying subsided and he sat up. “…I- I’m so sorry you had to see me like this, I didn’t-” “Hey, what’s family for, anyway?” She smiled gently at him. Cronan sniffled, his face soaked with tears. “…I always… I told myself she was alive. I convinced myself she was trapped in the amulet, and that if I just tried hard enough… If I gathered enough power…” He sighed. “…You didn’t want to believe she was gone,” Emily summarized quietly. “I… know what you mean.” “You… do?” Cronan looked at her. “When our grandma first got sick…” Emily sighed and drew her knees up to her chest. “I pretended everything was fine for days. I couldn’t face the truth. Plus, I didn’t want Sophie to be upset…” “Understandable.” Cronan leaned against the wall. “…I was very young when your grandmother left-” “Wait, you remember her moving to Earth? How old are you?” “Elf years, remember?” He smiled a tiny bit at her. “As I was saying, I don’t remember her as well as I’d like, but I do remember she was very warm and kind, and I loved her very much.” He gave an ironic laugh. “No wonder they made her the guardian…” “She was pretty great.” Emily smiled sadly. “…She told us that as long as we’re brave and kind and love each other, she’d be alive in our memories.” The wording was so similar to what his mother had said. He went quiet, contemplating this. “…I’m really sorry about your mother, Cronan.” Emily touched his hand. “I was so sad when Skyra told us about it, even though you were still… you know.” “Evil? You can say it. You should say it.” He unconsciously mirrored her pose, hugging his knees. “…But thank you.” “Would it help to talk about her?” He nodded a little. “…She wasn’t always bad, you know. When I was young, she was a good parent to me, and we were close. But she was always ambitious. The dark magic changed her. Just like it changed me. I see that, now. I feel like I’ve been sleeping for years, and I’ve only just woken up.” The thought of sleep made him wince as he remembered his dream. It had been a painful mess of shadow creatures and his mother in the middle of them, and no matter how fast Cronan ran, he couldn’t reach her. “…I can’t believe she’s really gone.” Fresh tears rolled down Cronan’s face. “Realizing I can’t bring her back… It’s like I’ve lost her all over again.” He sobbed in spite of his best efforts. Emily leaned over and hugged him. He stiffened at her touch. “What are you doing?” he asked, confusion overriding his sorrow for a moment. “Hugging you.” “Why?” “Because you need it.” He relaxed slowly, and as the tension left him, the tears returned. Some of them purely due to Emily’s kindness. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and shook with muffled sobs. She hummed softly and pet his hair. “…You’re all too good to me,” he eventually managed. “I’ve been so awful to everyone. How can you all forgive me this easily?” “That wasn’t really you. You’re not bad, Cronan. You were just lost.” Cronan hesitantly hugged her back. “…I miss her so much.” “I know. I miss my grandma. But as long as you keep her memory alive, she’ll always be with you.” He nodded tearfully. “…It still hurts.” Emily sighed. “It does. That part just takes time. All you can do is let people help you when you need it.” Cronan smiled a little. “Thank you, Emily. I never knew how much I needed a cousin.” She laughed softly, wiping her eyes. “Me neither.” He pulled back to look at her. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? When I, you know, kidnapped you? I never asked.” “You didn’t, don’t worry. Old shadow jelly, on the other hand, they were a little rough.” “I’m sorry. I wish I’d never set eyes on that thing.” “It didn’t really seem like you got along. Why did you even work with them?” “I was willing to do just about anything to free my mother. Even make deals with the shadows.” He sighed. “I just wish it hadn’t all been for nothing.” “Me too.” She patted his arm. “I mean it. But, hey, at least it brought all of us together. That’s worth something.” Cronan gave her a sad smile. “Do you always say such wise things?” She scoffed playfully. “Oh yeah, all the time, they call me ‘Knows Everything Emily’ back home. They come from far and wide to hear me say smart stuff.” He laughed quietly, drying his face. “I’m sure.” She gave him a gentle nudge. “You wanna try and get some more sleep?” “I suppose I should. I feel like I was hit by a boulder. I just… I’m worried my dreams won’t let me.” Emily looked at him for a long moment. “…Oh, here, I’ve got an idea.” She pulled a hair tie out of her pocket and gave it to him. “Put this around your wrist.” “What is it?” “A portable hug. If you get really upset, I’m just a knock away, but if you just need a little reminder you aren’t alone, you’ve got this.” He looked at the tie, then at her, and nodded with a small smile. “Thank you.”

It was still a rough night for Cronan, but the hair tie was actually very helpful. He wasn’t alone. He had family and friends now. People who cared about him, for some bizarre reason. He was still grieving, but he felt an undercurrent of hope he hadn’t felt before. He was going to be okay.