Suddenly, he feels like an ant being viewed by an indifferent god. This is not the wife he clawed from the depths of despair for. This is not the lover he tore his skull apart for. He clenches his jaw as he realizes Leliana - his Leliana- lives only in his rebuilt memories now. He blinks the blurry tears from his eyes. Not in front of the children, he thinks as he glances back at the wobbling babies with a sigh to steady himself. But what to do next? He looks back to her, red like dead planets. Like diminishing suns.
Chronos cries out in fear as his belly fills with milk and he tucks himself tighter to his sister. This feeling defies his instinct to nurse despite the way it hushes his raw hunger. Vulgaris turns his body to block them from their mother’s sight, gently brushing their damp forelocks from their eyes. He kisses the milk from their messy faces and sighs slowly. Magic changed the ones it took root in, his father had told him once. It was too great a thing to be harnessed in one body but it found a host just the same. He swallows hard and looks up into her burning eyes.
“You can’t just feed them with whatever you are now. They’re children - our children - and they need to be nurtured.” He wants to be angry but all he feels is the quiet ache in his heart as he mourns her. Was this how it felt when his body came home without his memories to guide it back into her arms? Chronos nestles his face against his father’s side and takes comfort in the warmth. He leans his thin newborn body against Larke and begins to consider a nap. All the talk has bored him enough, it seems.
“I’m naming them.. Larke and Chronos,” he says, and his tone is desperate for some sign of emotion from her now. He wants her to wake up from this spell and press delighted kisses against the twins but something in him knows she won’t. His breath shudders in his throat but he bites his tongue to keep from weeping.
Chronos cries out in fear as his belly fills with milk and he tucks himself tighter to his sister. This feeling defies his instinct to nurse despite the way it hushes his raw hunger. Vulgaris turns his body to block them from their mother’s sight, gently brushing their damp forelocks from their eyes. He kisses the milk from their messy faces and sighs slowly. Magic changed the ones it took root in, his father had told him once. It was too great a thing to be harnessed in one body but it found a host just the same. He swallows hard and looks up into her burning eyes.
“You can’t just feed them with whatever you are now. They’re children - our children - and they need to be nurtured.” He wants to be angry but all he feels is the quiet ache in his heart as he mourns her. Was this how it felt when his body came home without his memories to guide it back into her arms? Chronos nestles his face against his father’s side and takes comfort in the warmth. He leans his thin newborn body against Larke and begins to consider a nap. All the talk has bored him enough, it seems.
“I’m naming them.. Larke and Chronos,” he says, and his tone is desperate for some sign of emotion from her now. He wants her to wake up from this spell and press delighted kisses against the twins but something in him knows she won’t. His breath shudders in his throat but he bites his tongue to keep from weeping.
