Title: Softie

Author: Ryoko Metallium

Author's Notes: This is something that spawned out of real life experience. After watching my cousin, who had been a long time friend before marrying into the family, go through a dramatic change after the birth of his first child it got me day-dreaming. This was a short exercise to help me get over some writer's block and lack of energy to get back into my other stories. I have two others that I have planned out, but I really want to finish up Surviving Fort Drakon before I completely get off track.

Originally, this was meant to be a Sten story centering around his love of cute small things that ultimately evolved into an Alistair tale. Sten tends to be hard to write for me mainly because I can't identify with his character that much. I didn't really use him during my playthrough of the game. Frankly, he's kinda boring to me. Maybe in the future I'll write him into something connected to this story.

I kept the original name of Cousland so as not there be any confusion. Feel free to change it at your leisure. There is some fanart that I wanted to add to this story, but I haven't really decided on that since I'm a little out of practice in the art department.

Anywho...Enjoy!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins. It is the property of Electronic Arts and Bioware Inc. I do not own these characters. I am only borrowing them; I promise that I'll give them back.

The chantry bells in city of Denerim rang out early one morning, interrupting the pre-dawn hours with it heavenly chimes that signaled the citizens from their slumber. A momentous event had just taken place. The town square gradually filled with people, leaving the comfort of their warm beds and braving the chill in the night air. Spring had come early to Fereldan but the weather was still unseasonably cold. Soft mutters could be heard amongst the growing crowd as they waited patiently. With the towering shadow of the royal palace looming over the town, there seemed to some kind of activity from the number of lights glowing in the windows from what the peasents could see.

As the bells continued to ring, a herald emerged out of the palace gates. A priestess of the chantry being accompanied by the royal guard. A hushed silence fell over the crowd and all eyes turned towards the messenger. "By royal degree of his royal highness, King Alistair Theirin, son of Maric Theirin and ruler of all Fereldan, a day great of celebration have been decreed for the city of Denerim," he declared. "It is on this day that our fair queen has given birth to an heir to the throne; a beautiful baby girl christened with the title of princess. Rejoice fair people! This is a joyous occasion granted upon us by the Maker himself! He has blessed our king and queen with a beloved child and has given us a shining light towards a better future!"

With that announcement, a surge of excitement rose up amongst the crowd as the commemoration of the princess' long awaited arrival was well under way. The taverns opened their doors early to allow all those who wished to share a pint of the finest ale in her honor. Somewhere music began to play and a good number of people started to dance along with the tune. Denerim was alive with celebration as the bright sun rose just over the stone tops of the castle, signaling a chapter for Fereldan.

~0~0~0~

The expression on Alistair's face was a very familiar one.

The soft adoring eyes glazed over with overwhelming happiness.

The boyish giggle sprinkled with the hint of delightful awkwardness.

A wide toothy smile that would take many years or if ever to fade.

His majesty was smitten.

It was a rather humorous sight actually to witness the King of Fereldan turn to complete mush but also graciously heart warming to see the joy on a new father's face as he held his newborn daughter. The tiny rosy cheeked babe was swaddled warmly in a thick blanket, cradled with the utmost of care. With a tuft of soft dark brown hair that puffed out, a little mouth that suckled and little hands that curled around his fingers, Alistair could not take his eyes off the child. Her presence had captivated him completely as he stroked her pudgy cheeks delicately and kissed her forehead.

"Look at her!" he exclaimed. "Isn't she beautiful? I mean…she's…she's just…she's perfect! Absolutely perfect! Isn't she? By Andrastate, she even smells good!"

Alistair realized that he may have sounded like he had gone completely dumb in the head, but he didn't care. He had the right to sound a bit foolish that day. His greatest wish and prayer had been answered. His faith in miracles had been renewed just by the fact that he now had a family to call his own. "She's the most beautiful baby in all of Fereldan!" He looked down at the child and touched her cheek, nuzzling his nose against her while blubbering and cooing sweetly. "Yes you are, yes you are!"

Leliana shook her head and chuckled at the former templar's use of baby talk as she busied herself about the room. Following the announcement of the birth the bard had gone mad in a shopping spree, buying up just about everything in the market a princess could ever desire. She bought everything from expensive toys and clothes, and even going as far as purchasing an elaborate bassinet adorned with lace and frills imported from Orlasis. A kind gesture though she had gone a bit overboard.

Zevran and Oghren had arrived as well and had set themselves up near the fire, sharing drinks and toasts in honor of the blessed event. The elf had taken the time to bring with him a bottle of Three Isles brandy wine, a very exclusive drink found only in Antiva and served amongst the noble class. How he had gotten his hands on it was up for debate. Oghren wasn't about to partake in any of that "fruity-tooty" stuff. Such an occasion called from something stronger! Aside from the crates of Garblog's Backcountry Reserve he had delivered to the castle, the dwarf had commissioned a set of daggers forged in the fires by Orazmmar's great smiths for the infant. It must have been a dwarvan custom. Alistair would've preferred something other than weaponry for his daughter, like golem dolls or something less sharp and pointy…

Arl Eamon had already been in Denerim for a few days waiting in anticipation for the delivery. Lady Isolde had accompanied her husband as well; eager to offer aid to the queen should she had need of woman who had experience in childbirth. Her majesty's labor had begun sooner after their arrival and had been long and tiring effort. Her pains had begun late in the afternoon, progressing stronger and more excruciating as the day wore on. Alistair acted against the midwives advice and never left his wife's side for a moment. He coached her through the process, encouraging her to be strong for the sake of their child. The queen labored continued straight into the late hours of the night until the moment that her screams of pains were replaced by the squealing wails of a new life.

It was quite uplifting for the old man to see Alistair in such high spirits. The many months since becoming king had been stressful to say the least. The boy had found himself dealing with such responsibilities that he had never once had to worry about before. With a country to care for along with a pregnant wife, the arl was beginning to spot some grey hairs taking root. Yet watching Alistair as he gushed and fawned over his child and the absolute bliss wash over him, he could see a sort of rekindling of his spirit happening.

He knew that feeling well. And speaking from a personal level, the arl couldn't help but take pleasure in his own sense of happiness. After all, in some way he was now a grandfather.

"It's my understanding word has reached Redcliffe to the Circle of Magi and as far as the Amaranthine lands," said the Arl. "Bann Teagan sends his regards, as does First Enchanter Irving. The Arl of Highever, the queen's brother, has already sent a messanger stating that he left his castle and should be here in two days time. The sister of the Chantry will arrive later this afternoon to offer blessings and we can expect a gathering of the nobles in time for a proper celebration to welcome the princess. Just as soon as the queen has had time to recover of course." The old man chuckled lightly. "Just a day old and already she's getting spoiled."

"I just can't get over it…I just, I can't believe that she's really here. This doesn't seem real, you know. And yet…here she is." There were some similarities in the baby's features that reminded him of her mother. The shape of her mouth and her nose were Elissa's, as well was the color of her hair. But he could make out some features of his own in the baby, such as her eyebrows and the way her little ears were shaped. But there was a unique beauty his daughter possessed that was hers alone. Something that captivated Alistair and made him go completely love struck.

Reluctantly Alistair handed off his daughter over to Leliana, giving her one more kiss and capping her head. The bard began humming a soothing lullaby as she walked with the babe about the room. Oddly Alistair felt uncomfortably naked and anxious without his child in his arms. His fingers twitched nervously. "For the longest time now the two of us were beginning to think that there was no hope for us of ever having children. Elissa and I…we knew that with the taint in our blood, trying to conceive would be difficult. Practically close to impossible. The pressure we were getting from the other nobles to produce any heir certainly didn't help the matter any. We tried for two years, hoping and praying for some kind of miracle…"

"And how is our fair lady?" Zevran piped in, pouring himself another glass of wine as well one for Eamon.

"Exhausted understandably," Alistair said with a sigh. His voice lowered to a deep worried tone. "Maker...I was so worried for her. Wynne and Lady Isolde had told me that process would be hard for the both of us, but even that wasn't enough to prepare me. Thankfully everything turned out fine in the end. They helped and cared for her through her labor but it will be sometime before she's well enough to leave her bed. Considering how long it took for her to deliver, I don't blame Elissa for being weakened."

"You don't exactly look as fresh as a morning rose yourself my good friend Alistair."

"Yeah. You look like sometime that darkspawn shat out boy," Oghren said followed with a hearty belch.

"Lovely. That makes me feel so much better."

Leliana had finished her lullaby and was just tucking the newborn into her cradle. Alistair could hear his daughter mewing and cooing softly as she was enfolded with more blankets while the bard rocked her back and forth. "So have you chosen a name for the little one?" she asked.

"Juliana." Alistair said her name like it was a holy prayer, something sacred and divine. And just like that, his face transformed. Wonder of such indescribable purity filled his features that it was amazing to witness. His eyes closed and he breathed in a deeply, allowing pride and joy to swell up within to the point it looked like it was going to burst. His lips pinched shut tightly with a smile. A small laugh escaped just once. "We named her Juliana."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful child!" Rising from his chair, Zevran poured out two more glasses of wine and handed them out to Alistair and to Leilana while holding up his own glass. "I propose a toast then! Here's to the Princess of Fereldan! May the Maker and Andrastate smile upon her with all their grace, love and wisdom. May she be granted a future free from darkspawn and arch demons and all that unpleasantness. As well to the king and queen! To her courageous mother for being as strong-willed as ever and to her equally stubborn father for proving the rumors of grey warden sterility wrong!"

The room erupted with Oghren's drunken laughter at Zevran's joke, slapping his knee hard, spitting ale on himself and nearly falling over in his chair with delight. Even Arl Eamon and Leliana had to chuckle just a little bit. Had Alistair been a in a fouler mood he probably would have had the elf banished from the castle, but he allowed the insult to pass this one time. He drank to his family honor just as he shot a glance at the elf, letting him know that he wouldn't forget the jab at his virility any time soon.

At that moment, the chamber door creaked open and the aged mage Wynne strolled in. The years following the end of the Blight and the death of the arch demon had awarded the old woman some much needed peace. She had spent her time as one of the advisors to the king's court and companion to the queen. Though the question of how much time she had left was always at the forefront of her mind, she never allowed herself to dwell to long on it. Wynne chose to enjoy the time she was given, even more so now that the kingdom was awarded a royal heir. She had long considered their highnesses to be her surrogate children and though she probably wouldn't admit it openly, but the role of being a 'grandmother' somehow excited her.

"Wynne, how is Elissa doing?" Alistair asked, setting down his glass. "Is she well?"

"She is, your highness. She is still weakened and very tired from the birth but that's well to be expected." Wynne smiled warmly to Alistair as to reassure him. In her eyes he was still as lovesick as ever about the woman he had fallen for during the Blight. He adorned her with all his heart and often spoiled her with every moment he could spare. She could quickly see him doing the same thing to his daughter in the coming years. "Her highness has rested as well has something to eat to help regain some of her strength. I have also administered some healing herbs to help process her recovery. She should be fine in a few weeks."

Alistair breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good."

"She has also requested that everyone presence in her chambers. Elissa wishes to express her happiness in person."

"Well then, what are we standing around here for?" Zevran sprang up to his feet, drinking the rest of his wine in a rush. "Come! We mustn't keep our lovely queen waiting then! Oghren, make yourself presentable for Andrastate sake! You smell like the back end of a Bronto."

"What was that, you swishy nug-licker?!"

"Hush my friend, or you'll wake the baby."

"Ugh…go suck on a pike," the dwarf grumbled as he stumbled off his chair and out the door.

(1)Alistair reached into the cradle and very tentatively lifted the blanket wrapped bundle up into his arms. Once again, the sheer marvel of his daughter's presence shone brightly on the king's face. No doubt about it; he was irrevocably in love. With the utmost care, his hands held her tiny body close to his chest as he adjusted her into a comfortable position on his shoulder. Juliana started to fret and fuss as she was moved. Her cries started to grew steadily just as Alistair tried shifting her to the crook of his arm.

"Shh shh, it's okay. Don't cry my sweet girl," he shushed. "Daddy is here."

Then for a split second, she went silent and Juliana's eyes opened briefly open to lock on solely on Alistair – two dark brown orbs staring straight up at him and only him. Alistair heard himself gasp as father and daughter shared a gaze. The babe watched him for several moments like as she was studying him, entranced by him just he was by her. For what could be described as a religious euphoria, the baby then blinked up at him and just smiled. Alistair's heart, which had already grown to super size, seemed to finally explode.

Maker help him...he was a father now. This small beautiful creature was his child.

His child.

He had clear his throat from choking and blinked rapidly to try clear his eyes of forming tears. He brushed his lips to her forehead and kissed her. Some stray tears were starting to travel down the sides of his cheeks but he ignored them.

Wynne had been watching the exchange silently, trying not to lose herself in the emotion of it. This is true magic, she thought. This is a true miracle. She looked at Arl Eamon, seeing him pratically beaming with pride. He nodded at the old mage, understanding completely everything that didn't need saying. As the baby started to fuss again, Alistair looked at the old woman with little bit of panic. Wynne held out her arms to take her from him. "She's probably just hungry," she said. "Newborns tend to be that way – rather constantly actually. An important fact to remember. Come; her mother must be anxious to see her."

"Yes…yes, you're right." Alistair cleared his throat again and brushed away his tears. "Let's go."

Musical Inspiration:

1. "A Gift of a Thistle" - Braveheart Original Movie Sountrack