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The sound of his wife vomiting in the bathing chamber woke Cullen early one morning. His sleepy eyes looked at the stain glass windows that dominated both sides of the room. There was only the barest hint of daylight filtering through the multicolored glass. The sound of a soft whimper coming from the next room had him quickly tossing off his blankets and leaping from the bed. With his heart hammering in his chest and his mind full of worry for his wife, he quickly crossed the bedroom; only to pause in the doorway, frozen for a moment with indecision.
“I’m sorry I didn’t intend to wake you. I think the worst of it has passed for now.”
She was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room with the bowl from the washstand held in her lap. Cullen stepped up to her, kneeled down next to her on the cold stone floor, and brushed her sweat dampened hair back from her face to tuck it behind her ear.
“It’s alright, love. I’m here now. I’ll stay and help you through this.”
A small smile fell across her face despite her obvious discomfort. She softly placed one of her hands to the side of his face.
“Despite being so sick and miserable right now I’m delighted to be pregnant. Every day of morning sickness, every sleepless night spent having to get up to relieve myself constantly, tells me that our child is strong and healthy.”
She paused for a moment and looked up at him with a face full of misery. A lopsided grin, that she loved so much, was on Cullen handsome face as he answered her.
“Would it help if I said that this was entirely my fault?”
She laughed at his teasing words, but after only a few seconds the laughter brought on a new round of heaving. Cullen quickly stood and walked over to the washstand, picking up a rune etched pitcher he found there. His fingers ghosted over a few of the small runes etched along the side of the container. Instantly the water inside was chilled and a thin layer of frost covered the outside of the earthen vessel. He poured some of the cold water into a mug, moistened a washrag, and then walked back over to his wife.
“I think it’s passed for now. I’m feeling better.”
Cullen handed her the mug of water so she could rinse her mouth and slowly take a few sips to settle her stomach. He took the damp towel and wiped the sweat from her face, placing a kiss to her cheek when her color started improving. Taking the bowl from her lap and setting it to the side, he helped her stand.
“Come back to bed, love. I’ll go down to the kitchens and get you some weak tea and bread to settle your stomach before you try to get up again.”
He was shocked by her appearance. Her normally rosy complexion was pale and her lips nearly colorless; her eyes had dark circles underneath them from lack of sleep. Women were supposed to be glowing with pregnancy… right? Only his wife was a pale and a hollow version of herself right now.
This woman who fought and defeated a crazed Magister with godlike powers, who faced down dragons and monstrous demons of the fade armed with little more than her broadsword and her force of will, was left defenseless to the changes in her body.
The best he could do at this point was be there for her, hold her while she felt so tired and sick, and wait for the storm to pass. Time and again he told himself that the effects of morning sickness were only temporary. But despite what his logical mind told him, his heart still ached to see her like this and he blamed himself for causing her so much discomfort. He wanted to start a family as soon as they were married. His past was full of so much darkness and death, he wanted their future, now that the world had some measure of peace, to be born of love and hope.
They were both looking forward to becoming parents. Overjoyed with the fact that so soon after their marriage they would be having a child. He made a promise to stand by her side in sickness and in health and now it was time to follow through.
He quietly stepped into the massive kitchen in the lower level of Skyhold. The morning dawn was just filtering through the kitchen windows as he set about building a tray to take things back upstairs to their bedroom for his wife.
“So it's you! I was wondering who was stealing my day old bread and ginger tea.”
Cullen was startled and he spun around looking for the voice he had heard behind him. For a few moments he thought the room was empty, but he looked down at a sturdy dwarfen woman when he heard a small giggle. She walked over to look at the tray that Cullen had placed on the counter.
“You see, at first I thought it was one of my girls drinking the tea. And for some reason my day old bread that I used to make crumbs with was missing as well.”
She turned back around, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked up at Cullen with a knowing smile.
“So when is the baby due? Congratulations, Sir Cullen.”
Cullen blushed and his hand brushed the back of his head.
“Yes… well, ah… we haven’t told anyone yet so…”
The room began to fill with the kitchen staff as they were speaking. All of them watching their exchange out of the corner of their eyes. The hardy dwarfen woman barking out orders to them as they began their busy day in Skyhold. She motioned over a plump woman and began speaking to her.
“Karis, the Lady Inquisitor is expecting and I want you to make her simple foods for a few weeks until her morning sickness has passed. Then I expect she will be eating like a Grey Warden after that. You’re seeing to her meals from now on.”
Cullen’s breath came out in a rush with relief. The head cook turned back to look at him again as whispered conversations began drifting around the room.
“Now then, I’m Valla and I have a daughter Vianna. She’s a talented midwife. I’ll send her up to the Lady so she will take a look at things and make sure everything is fine with Inquisitor and the babe.”
Cullen took the tray from Karis with grateful thanks, nodded to Valla, and made his way back up to his bed-chamber. It wouldn’t take long for news of The Inquisitor’s condition to make its way through the castle. By mid-morning when Cullen and his wife finally made it down to the main hall it was to be greeted with heartfelt congratulations and well wishes from their closest companions and servants alike. At the end of the day his hand was aching and his back and shoulder was sore from all the well-meaning compliments.
A few weeks later morning sickness was a thing of the past. Her body began to change dramatically. His sleek, strong warrior who carried a broadsword with little to no effort, developed soft curves and a rounder waistline. As her body adapted and shifted to the growing life within her, she was never more beautiful to his eyes. He spent his days watching over her whenever he could and his nights exhausted by her increasing demands for him.
Each night they made love before falling asleep with his arms around her and his hand resting on the small growing bump of her belly. Later in the dark, she would reach for him again. She would stroke him in the near darkness until he was moaning, his body rigid and helpless to deny her. She was wet and willing, taking him with a fierceness that borders on obsession, riding him like a desire demon. Their bodies locked together as she rocked above him with her breathless cries.
“More…. Yes, you feel so good. Give me more.”
She left him drained and boneless beneath her.
One morning he awoke early, still half asleep as she was curled next to him in the bed. He held her close as he slowly glided his hand over the rounded shape of her lower body and for the first time felt his child stirring within her. She told him that she had been feeling movement for weeks now, but this was the first time he thought he had felt his child for himself.
“Darling, are you awake? Is that you?”
She mumbled something in her sleep, flipped over to her back, kicked off the blankets, but still remained deeply asleep. Cullen was stunned as he looked down. He watched, with startled amazement, as her lower abdomen moved and fluttered on its own. It was apparent to him, now more than ever before, that there was a separate person living and growing just beneath his hand. That she carried a part of him inside of her and that together they had created something miraculous. He stayed there all morning captivated by the very obvious movements of his child. Already helplessly and forever falling in love with someone he had never met.
A few days later as he was sitting at a small table finishing up his breakfast while reading a document that contained his weekly troop reports. His ears perked up when he heard an exasperated groan from their dressing room nearby. He dropped the parchment down and stood up to follow the ever increasing sounds of his wife’s mild cursing.
He stifled a laugh as he watched his frustrated spouse try to force her generous breasts into her now obviously too small breast band. Her body had changed so dramatically, her once pert and modest bosom was now overflowing and the cause of her distress. She stood facing a huge mirror that once hung on the ceiling of his bedroom loft, but now took up the majority of the wall in the small dressing room.
“Look at this! I can’t fit into any of my clothes.” She struggled for a second time and managed to close the laces on her breast band straining the material. “There, see now. It still fits.” There was the sound of ripping material as the offending undergarment gave way and fell to the floor. “Don’t you dare laugh at me! I’m getting fat. My backside alone has grown huge!” She covered her breast with one arm while her other hand wandered down to her swelling abdomen.
Cullen leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his naked chest, while still dressed in loose well-worn linen pants. He found it hard to stop the laughter from filling his voice as he crossed to gather her up in his arms.
“Stop that now.” He dropped a kiss to the side of her neck to reassure her. He turned her to face the mirror while he looked at her naked body, slowly and lovingly taking in every small detail of her appearance. His large hands began to smooth over her soft skin as he softly whispered in her ear. “You’re not fat. You’re pregnant, there’s a big difference. And I like all your new curves they’re sexy and I can’t keep my hands off of them.” He moved her hands aside and began to stroke her generous breast. Dropping his hands lower to caress her swollen belly. “This one is my most favorite curve you know.” He moved his hand, even lower to stroke her between her thighs as his other hand felt her nipple harden and peak at his touch.
She leaned back into him as her hands reached behind her to untie the laces and lower his loose sleeping pants down. She heard his breathing increase as her hand kept exploring to find him hard and ready for her. She watched his expression in the mirror change as her hand stroked his length. He groaned as she gripped him and guided him into her wet and willing body.
“Show me.”
Later that afternoon Cullen took her to a tailor and spent the rest of the day with her as she picked out a completely new wardrobe to accommodate her new frame and carry her through the remaining months of her pregnancy.
He found it difficult to hold back his smiles and chuckles as his fierce and proud warrior for the first time in her life balked at the prospect of wearing dresses. She felt more comfortable with the solid and heavy weight of a suit of armor and a broadsword on her back than this soft and flexible fabric.
He knew that as she was now dressed in velvet, silk, or woven cotton it made her feel vulnerable and self-conscious. Cullen assured her that no matter what she wore, she was still beautiful in his eyes. His protective instincts going into overdrive as her new clothes only accentuating her ever expanding belly and lower feminine necklines of her dress emphasizing her now impressive bosom.
As the time for delivery of the baby drew near it became a nightly routine for Cullen to message her tired swollen feet and ankles. They talked about the future and tried to decide baby names that they both could agree on.
One evening he found her in the bathing chamber, crying quietly after her bath. She told him how hard she had tried to avoid it, by applying moisturing lotions and oils, but stretch marks began to develop on her ever expanding waistline.
“Oh Maker! How can you stand to look at me after I have the baby? These stretch marks will be here forever. I had hoped to avoid this from happening.”
He gathered her in his arms and tried to stifle her tears.
“I will never find you unattractive, love. For the rest of our lives I will see this,” He gently stroked up and down the dark lines that had begun to form on her stomach. “And remember how you look right now, carrying our child and full of life. I think I fell in love with you the first time you strode into the war room in Haven. Beautiful and wearing your confidence like a suit of armor.”
She looked up at his face and gave him a watery laugh.
“You never told me that.”
Cullen brushed the tears from her face, then dropped a kiss to her forehead.
“I am in awe each day when I look at you and our baby growing within you. If it's even possible I love you more since conceiving our child. Before this, it was just the two of us. We were just a couple, but now…” Cullen let his hands slowly stroke over her swollen abdomen. “Now we are going to be a family. And that’s something I never thought I could have. Before you my life was in service to the Chantry. The prospect of a wife and children not even possible.”
She kissed him as her doubts and fears melted away, loving him and thanking the Maker that this wonderful, loving man was a part of her life, and a partner in her future.
“Children…huh? Getting a bit ahead of yourself aren’t we?”
She pulled back slightly to look him in the eye.
Cullen blushed and his eyes wandered off to the side and his hand brushed the back of his neck.
“Well, I was thinking of one of each. A boy and a girl? But I suppose that is left in the Maker's hands.”
He turned to look back at her face. She had a gentle smile on her face as she placed her warm hand on his cheek.
“I want a little girl with your golden curls and honey brown eyes. Someone you can spoil to oblivion and back. While I can teach our son how to wield a sword. How does that sound?”
He gently took her face in his hands to drop a kiss to her lips.
“That sounds perfect.”
As fate would have it, they got their son first. After a grueling 20 hours of labor for which Cullen refused to leave her side. Shocking the midwife and all the ladies-in-waiting by staying though the whole ordeal. Even when she threatened to remove his manhood with a rusty dagger while he slept, before she would let him touch her again. He stayed. Never once complaining when she reached for him, gripped his hands and arms hard enough to leave bruises behind.
He thought that the nightmares of his past were the worst he could have suffered in his life, but all of that paled, compared to seeing his wife in overwhelming pain and he was helpless to stop it. She gave him a loud and a squirming baby boy then promptly fell asleep from exhaustion not long after.
The Inquistior slowly surfaced from a deep sleep. Afraid to move at first because her body was tired and achy all over. She felt like she had fallen out of the fade through a rift all over again.
She turned her head at the sound of a hushed voice nearby. To see her husband holding his newborn son to his naked chest as he sat in a large chair near the bed. She silently watched them. Her tiny newborn son was loosely swaddled in a soft blanket while his father’s hands held him close to his heart. She listened to Cullen speaking to his son with hopes for his future, promises to always be there for him, and teach him all about the world. She watched as her husband fell in love with their son, and she fell in love with her handsome Templar all over again.
“Have I been sleeping long?”
Cullen rose from the chair to sit next to her and help her sit up in the bed.
“Not long, love. This young man has had his first bath, he is now perfectly presentable. Just in time to meet his Mother for the first time.”
Cullen placed his son into his Mother’s arms and placed a kiss to each of them as he moved slightly away to look at them. In a gesture as old as time he watched as his wife unwrapped their child and counted ten tiny fingers and toes, ran her hands all over the downy blonde hair that had just begun to dry and curl, she wrapped her arms around him and settled him next to her heart. When the newborn began rooting around on his Mother’s chest, she quickly bared her breast to him and gave him his first meal. Cullen knew that for the rest of his life he would never see anything more strikingly breathtaking than the sight of his wife and son at this moment.
“What shall we call him? Did we ever finally choose a name?”
She met his eyes with a smile.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that. I want to honor a brave hero who, without his help, the world would have been destroyed and so many good people would have died.”
She reached down to pick up the tiny hand and felt her son wrap his fingers around her own in a strong grip.
“Garret. Garret Hawke Stanton Rutherford. How does that sound, love?”
Cullen eyes began to overflow with tears and his voice was thick with emotion.
“Welcome to the world my son.”