when you look at the stars, I'll be there
Summary: For over ten years, Anneliese Cousland and Alistair have tried and failed to conceive. After much work, however, their son is born and Anneliese soons find herself struggling with being a mother. aka. the character study fic about anneliese and motherhood. A/N: idk anything about babies or being a mother btw so don't. come for me if smthg seems off. Word Count: 2,211
When she was young, Anneliese had been told that there was no moment like that when a mother first held her child. When she asked her sister-in-law, Oriana went into great detail at how full of love she felt when Oren came into the world. During her pregnancy, the other ladies in court all told her what wonderful and magical moment it was.Â
But as Anneliese sat there, covered in sweat and bleeding, shaking from exhaustion, she wondered if something was wrong with her. When they placed the child in her arms, she could barely stand to look at him.Â
For nine long months she had carried him inside of her, and she had hated almost every second of it. The constant nausea and vomiting that made her feel weak was bad enough. The fact that all those around her treated her like glass made it even worse. Soon, she no longer was allowed to carry a shield and days were no longer spent training in the courtyard.Â
Embroidery did very little to sate her needs of stabbing.Â
The worst part had been the nightmares. Especially during the later months, she had consistent nightmares where she was a Broodmother and from her, the slug like Children crawled out from her. She shivered even just remembering those.Â
And now he was here, this long awaited child that had caused her so much suffering was in her arms. She had thought that his birth would make it all worth it, that it would all make sense.Â
But when she looked at him, Anneliese felt nothing. It was the same nothing that she felt when she killed Howe.Â
The memory of that day came back to the forefront of her mind. Howe, dead on the floor, his blood on her hands, her sword, her shield. His vile words echoing in her head, and she had been driven by the belief that his death would have meant more than this. That it would have felt something more than just another body in the pile she left behind wherever she went.Â
She thought it would have given reason to all the pain she had endured but as she looked at his lifeless eyes, she felt nothing.Â
âHeâs so small.â Alistairâs voice brought her back to the present. Anneliese turned her head to look at him. He had a smile on his face and she swore she saw a tear on his eye. At least someone was happy. âI think he has your nose.âÂ
She wanted to say something but her only reply was a half smile, as the tiredness began to set in. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as her son began to settle down in her arms.Â
âHave you thought of a name yet?â She heard Eamon ask. With a heavy sigh, she opened one eye and looked at Alistair.Â
âSince heâs a boy, I believe we settled on Duncan.â He said, looking between the old man and the baby.Â
It was almost ironic that their child be named after the man who put them on this path all those years ago. But it was a good name.Â
âYes.â She breathed out. âDuncan it is.â       Â
.Â
Anneliese sat alone in the nursery, Duncan drinking from her breast. The topic of a wet nurse had been brought up but she insisted on feeding her child herself. It had taken her too long to have him, she wouldnât let others raise her son.Â
But as she sat there, her thoughts went to Morrigan.  Â
Morrigan all alone, pregnant, wandering Ferelden. Giving birth by herself and raising her son on her own. Did she feel scared? Did she ask for help? Did she feel the same as Anneliese did now?Â
Did Morrigan doubt herself as Anneliese did?
She wondered where she was. A decade had passed, the boy would be all grown up by now. Who did he take after, she wondered.Â
Anneliese looked down at Duncan, as he continued to drink. Alistair said he had her nose though it seemed to her too early to tell. He did have a mop of black hair on his head, much like hers.
She sighed heavily as she thought of the months that had passed. She had spent most of her time in this room, with him. Sheâd sing him to sleep, sheâd feed and bathe him, and all this time spent together, she still waited for that moment.Â
The moment sheâd look at him and feel something.
Duncan cried endlessly. She would try to soothe him but it was never enough. She would hold him in her arms, trying to rock him but he wouldnât stop crying. Then Alistair would hold him and heâd calm down in an instant. Anneliese wondered if there was something wrong with her.Â
Sometimes, she almost resented him. She was always alone with him, and thought Alistair helped where he could, someone still had to lead the country. The few times she had met with others, the conversation had been solely about him. Howâs the babe, is he doing well, heâs so big. She tired of it quickly.Â
She missed her life before he was born, of days spent in the training yard. How long had it been since she last wielded a sword?Â
But when she thought of handing Duncan to someone else, fear gnawed at her. He consumed her life and yet, she couldnât stand to be separated from him. Did Oren not die the night his father wasnât around?Â
Still, she was tired, and only four months had passed. Would it be like this forever?Â
Once he was done feeding and burping, she rocked him her arms, hoping heâd go to sleep. The peacefulness of the moment lay heavy on her eyes, and soon, she closed them.Â
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âBut I donât want to get married!â Anneliese crossed her arms and pouted. She sat in front of the vanity, her tiny legs swinging from the chair as her mother brushed her hair.Â
Eleanor huffed âYou say that now, but then one day, youâll be old and wrinkly and wondering where are you husband and children to keep you warm.â
âI can have my friends. And Buddy will be there.âÂ
She sighed. âI know, honey, but friends can leave and BuddyâŚwell, it would just be safer if you had someone who would be with you. Like a husband.â She began braiding Annelieseâs hair. âI just want you to not be alone.âÂ
âI have you and father. Iâll never be alone.âÂ
âYour father and IâŚwe wonât be here forever, love.â
Anneliese frowned. âWhat does that mean?âÂ
âI-â Eleanor did not finish her sentence, as an arrow was shot through her throat. Anneliese stood up from her chair, not a child anymore, as she saw her mother bleeding on the floor.Â
Eleanor gasped, trying to say something but she couldnât.Â
âMother!â She held her hand, tears streaming down her face. âPlease, please. Mother, donât leave me. I need you!âÂ
Her mother looked at her, eyes widened as life vanished from her body. Soon, it turned to ash into Annelieseâs hand, as she cried herself into waking up.Â
.
The room was dark, with a gentle breeze flowing through the open window. Anneliese woke up with a gasp, and feeling an emptiness in her arms.Â
Duncan was nowhere to be found.Â
Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked around. Seeing no sign of him, she ran out of the room. The halls were long and dark, but she knew her home well. She stopped first in the room, grabbing the sword she always kept underneath her bed and ran out again.Â
She ignored the guards and servants that tried to talk to her. Soon, she found herself bursting into Alistairâs room.Â
âAlistair! Duncan-â She said as she entered but soon the words died on her throat as she saw her husband, sitting on a chair, their son asleep on his chest. She placed her sword on the floor, as she breathed a sigh of relief, walking over to them.Â
Alistair, who seemed half asleep, looked at her. âHe was crying, so I decided to take him. Heâs been out for hours now.âÂ
âHe was crying?â She whispered. How had she not heard it?Â
âYou were asleep. I didnât want to disturb you.âÂ
She didnât know what to say. She didnât remember falling asleep. The fact that someone entered the nursery and took him without her noticing-
âYouâre crying.â Alistair whispered, as he reached forward to hold her hand. âWhat happened?âÂ
She looked down, frowning as she touched her face. It was only then she had noticed the tears. âI had a bad dream and then I woke up and he was gone, and IâŚâ She covered her face with her hands, trying not to sob as she took a deep breath. âMaker, what a mess.âÂ
âHeyâŚlook at me. â Alistair reached for her hand again, holding it in his. âHeâs here, youâre here, Iâm here. Everythingâs alright.âÂ
She wiped the tears from her face with her other hand. âI just⌠Keep worrying something will happen if Iâm not here.â
âHe wonât be alone. Thereâll always be someone watching over him.â
âItâs not that, itâsâŚ. What if the wind blows too coldly, or what if wakes up scared, or what if someone takes him.â She looked at Alistair. âWhat if something happens and Iâm not here?â
âNothingâs going to happen.â
âYou donât know that. Alistair, you took him from me and I didnât wake up.âÂ
âIâm his father-â
âBut what if you werenât-â
âAnneliese.â He spoke in a slightly louder tone. âI worry too. All of the time. But you havenât been resting well. Thatâs why you didnât wake up. You spend every waking hour with him, and it's hurting you. Let others help.âÂ
She bit her lip. She knew he was right but he didnât understand. Duncan was small, too small, and he did nothing besides eat, sleep and cry. It was her job to protect him, and if she couldnât even do thatâŚ
His crying took her out of her thoughts, and soon, he was back in her arms. Alistair tried to protest, but she told him âIâll put him to sleep and thenâŚthen we talk.âÂ
She marched out of the room, as she desperately tried to soothe him but it seemed an impossible task. Duncan always cried harder when she held him.Â
In his room, she walked in circles, rocking him, singing to him but nothing worked. Soon, she too began to quietly cry.Â
What was wrong with her, that she couldnât calm her own child? Did he know his mother did not love him as she should?Â
She didnât know how to do this. There were others to help, yes, but none of them understood. She felt like a child again, lost and desperate and where was her own mother.Â
Eleanor should have been there. She should have been there to hold her hand and guide her and tell her how to do this and how to fill the void inside of her. Duncan continued to cry.Â
She walked towards the window, gulping down her own tears, and she looked to the sky, taking a deep breath.Â
âWhen you look at the stars, Iâll be looking at them too.â Anneliese whispered to herself, remembering her motherâs words to her. âAnd itâll be as if weâre looking at each other.âÂ
âWhen you feel lonely and lost, just look to the stars, and Iâll be watching over you.âÂ
Where are you now, mother, when I need you most? She thought to herself.Â
Anneliese wondered if she could see her now. Anneliese was no longer the girl her mother had tried to protect - loss and constant battle had turned into a woman. When she was young, she thought her mother was over protective. She didnât let Anneliese leave Highever, she didnât want to put her in danger, she did not understand her fascination with blades and combat and stories of war and knights.Â
But now, holding Duncan in her arms, she began to understand. All he had was Anneliese. Perhaps thatâs how her mother always saw her, not as a young woman, but as the child she had to protect.Â
As if by a miracle, Duncan ceased crying. She looked down at him, as he squirmed in the slightest before settling in her arms.Â
She took a deep breath. âNothing will ever hurt you.â She promised. âI wonât let anything hurt you, ever.â She kissed his forehead. âIâm sorry that I canât be a good mother to you,â she wiped a tear off her cheek âbut I promise to be there. I love you.â She said.Â
Even if I canât feel it, she thought to herself.Â
Gently, she laid him on the crib, and stood over him, watching him sleep. Not too long after, Alistair walked into a room and went to her side, a hand on her back.Â
âGo to sleep, love. Iâll stay with him.âÂ
She looked at Alistair, and saw the tiredness in his eyes. She nodded and said âIâll go, justâŚgive me a few more minutes.âÂ
He nodded, and the two stood there, watching their son sleep.Â
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