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Her doctor, a petite brown-skinned woman in her fifties, offered her a black binder.
“I’m sure you already know this, miss Gaelathe, but we are obliged to inform all our clients about Rivaini law. If you decide to start your pregnancy at our clinic and use a sperm donor, there will be no legal relationship between your child and the donor. You will be your child’s only legal parent. We do not record donors contact information, and the donor profiles for our clients are strictly related to genetic attributes like intelligence or appearance.”
“In Tevinter, any children born during marriage become legal heirs of the husband. It’s old custom from the Tower Age. The Rivaini law suits me much better.”, Geldauran said lightly and took the binder.
The doctor smiled.
“You can take your time and look through the files in privacy. When you are ready, simply inform the nurse at reception, and we’ll continue our discussion then. I wish you a happy birthday, miss Gaelathe.”
“Thank you. I’ve looked forward to this a very long time, and I can scarcely think a better gift.”, Geldauran smiled. It was the first true smile she had shown for years, and she wondered if this was what people meant when they said that motherhood changed people.
The room was decorated with soft, pale colours and comfortable armchairs. There was a lovely picture of serene-looking woman holding hands on her swollen belly, and several photographs of babies. Baby feet seemed very popular. Geldauran glanced at picture on the wall. She had never liked Paulus’ toes; he had black wiry hair on his big toes. They were bony and long; Geldauran sometimes thought they looked like vulture’s talons. A fitting comparison considering her husband’s personality. She would not want her baby to have ugly toes like that.
Geldauran sniffed, and the smile spread on her face again. Well, this was her chance to pick something entirely different. Paulus was dark, and tall, so she could go to different direction. It was her birthday. She flipped through the plastic-covered pages, looking at unfamiliar faces of elven men. A daring, mischievous smirk caught her eyes for a moment, and Geldauran raised her eyebrow. Well, well, well. A Senior Enchanter from Cumberland Tower of Magi, age 28. Quite an accomplishment, and a bold move. Everyone knew that Circle Mages were not allowed to have children, but he was not having children, merely donating his sperm to someone who would. A technicality, yes, but details were important. Geldauran appreciated shrewd intelligence.
She inclined her head a bit, studying the man’s profile. He had a dimple on his cheek, and red hair. His nose was nice and straight, but he was short for a man. It lessened his chances to get picked, since everyone wanted tall men in hopes they’d pass their height to their sons. Paulus had; his bastard sons were tall just like him. Anaris and Daern’thal always tried use their height to tower over Geldauran and make her feel threatened. Naturally, they never succeeded. Someone who had grown up in Val Royeaux alienage and fought her way up to become an Altus lady did not tremble at the sight of tall half-elf bastard. But it did not make Geldauran overly fond of people taller than her.
Allowing herself a moment to dream, Geldauran wondered what it would be like to have a red-haired baby. Her mother had a red hair; that much she could recall from her early childhood before orphanage. It could be that her baby inherited the gene. A small red-haired daughter with magic in her blood – a mage child was essential to Geldauran’s plan. Banishing sentimentality, she collected herself and read through the short profile provided for Cumberland Senior Enchanter. It didn’t mention any extended family, naturally, but he mentioned being born at Hossberg Circle in Anderfels and passing his Harrowing at Cumberland. The fact hinted that he was likely a child of a mage, separated from his mother after birth. Two confirmed generations, then, from both sides. Hopefully it would result in a third.
Geldauran took a blank contract from the coffee table, and smiled as she wrote the details with neat handwriting. She crossed the box specifying the preferred gender. Rivaini mage technicians were quite skilled at classifying the sperm cells and it was her birthday. The gender of the baby wouldn’t affect her plan, so she could allow herself a small gratification. Geldauran had always wanted a daughter.
A tiny, red-haired daughter. The thought made her heart warm, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. The unknown Senior Enchanter from Cumberland, the donor number 38E, would assist Geldauran in her plan to seize a seat in Magisterium and becoming the first elven Magister in history. She had feeling that the man might appreciate her plan if he knew.
--
“You look bloated. I hope you are not letting yourself go now that you’re getting old.”, Paulus remarked, looking up from his computer when Geldauran closed the bathroom door. “That personal trainer I’m paying for is clearly not making you work hard enough.”
Geldauran bit her tongue to keep acidic remark from escaping her lips. The medication to suppress her own hormonal activity had been uncomfortable enough, but the injection cycle to stimulate her ovaries was worse. Her stomach was sore and swollen, and she wanted to bite Paulus’ head off. Soon, she promised herself. Not yet, but soon.
“I fear you are right.”, she fixed an apologetic expression on her face. “I will book a week at Rivaini boot camp again, then.”
“Whatever, as long as you get yourself in shape before Amladaris’ party. Sethius has an eye for a pretty elf, even though he made a fuss with other traditionalists when I married you.”
“Pimping me out for Sethius Amladaris is not in our agreement.”, Geldauran replied coolly. “He is half-mad religious fanatic, and you know it. We have spoken about this before.”
“I know, but he is a useful fanatic. He has made Magister’s Sidereal into a force to be reckoned with, and the House of Livernius is much stronger for it. We have reached the heights my father never even dreamed of. I don’t care much about religion, but anything is better than those Lucerni modernists Archon seems to favour. To make a former slave a Magister! I can’t believe what the old Erasthenes was thinking when he wrote his will. People like Calpernia will bring this country into ruin!”
Twelve years of marriage had taught Geldauran that she would not have any chance of sleeping before Paulus had ranted enough. If he got himself worked up, he might even want sex, and Geldauran would not risk getting pregnant by him. It would ruin her long-brewed revenge.
It was best to placate him with food, instead. Cheese was very bad for one’s arteries. Everyone knew it.
Geldauran picked few thick slices from a tray, placing three big grapes on the plate. She knew Paulus wouldn’t eat them, but he insisted on having them so he could fool himself with the idea of eating a balanced diet. His metabolism was finally slowing down, and now Paulus was paying for years of careless pleasures. He was starting to feel sensitive about his weight gain, and Geldauran found it poetically just. She hadn’t had a single candy since they had started dating, even though she had loved chocolate. Dark chocolate with sea salt flavouring had been her favourite, but Paulus had broken her off the habit with his sharp little remarks and less tactful reminders that he expected Geldauran to maintain herself if she expected to stay married to him.
She watched him chew the goat milk cheese, and imagined how his arteries clogged with each bite. Biology was a wonderful science, but blood magic was even better.
--
Her week at “Rivaini boot camp” had left her with few more bruises and one perfect embryo Geldauran desperately prayed would implant. She was running out of time. During her absence, Paulus had been busy. He had forgotten his computer open when he went to bathroom, and Geldauran had cleaned few aggravating e-mails with her handy USB stick. The undetectable spy program she had bought from Antivan hacker three years ago had been one of her better purchases. This time, it revealed her few more clues about Magister Sidereal’s plans, and one alarming note concerning her personal situation.
Geldauran had known from the beginning that Sethius Amladaris was a religious maniac, and she had warned Paulus years ago. But he had not believed her, of course. Paulus had always denied her political astuteness, even though he had a habit of stealing her ideas and presenting them as his own. Magisters Sidereal saw elves as blood magic fodder, whores to be fucked or slaves to clean up their sacrificial altars. Geldauran had wondered how they had been able to overlook the fact that Paulus Livernius, a Magister from a family known for their ancient name and traditionalist attitudes extending all way to distant past where the head of the house had served Andoral as a High Priest, had married an elf and stayed married for twelve years.
But Paulus had been different in his youth, more inclined to display his charm and intelligence instead of his less savoury features, and Geldauran had always been acutely aware that a model’s career had a definite time limit. When Paulus had decided he wanted her, promising her a life of luxury in Tevinter, Geldauran had informed him that she was not someone he could use and throw away. Her price had been marriage, and she had gotten it. Unfortunately, she had not expected to marry a narcissist. Few did.
At the end of his e-mail headlined “Entering the Golden City”, Sethius Amladaris addressed Paulus’ worry about securing his line in case there were complications. He was annoyed that Paulus was expressing doubts about their plan, and he warned him to stay faithful to Old Gods. It would not do to go astray so close to their plan’s execution. But he also mentioned that the Architect had a young niece with Altus ancestors; Paulus could marry her after he had disposed the elf.
Geldauran would not be disposed.
--
She made a positive pregnancy test in the bathroom. When the red dot appeared on the stick, she sat on the floor and wept for fear and relief. Paulus had never wanted to have children with her, but Geldauran would not allow him to steal this dream like he had stolen all others. She was going to be a mother; she would change the entire world for this daughter she had waited for years.
--
Geldauran waited twelve weeks. She ignored Paulus’ prolonged absences, and carefully regulated her calorie intake to make certain the baby had all the nutrition she needed to grow healthy. On the day, she entered her second trimester, Geldauran visited the family doctor and complained about strange tiredness which had plagued her lately. The doctor, who had prescribed her birth control spells for last twelve years, looked alarmed and took a blood test which confirmed what Geldauran already knew. She faked ignorance, and inwardly laughed at the man’s alarm when he hastily said he had to call Magister Livernius right away. Would she be available for terminating appointment on next Friday? Geldauran nodded, looking appropriately upset, and said tearfully that she had to go home to speak with her husband. But when she took a cab at the street, she told the driver to take her to Magister Calpernia’s house.
“Lady Livernus. A pleasure to see you as always. It’s not often one sees you without your husband.”, Archon Radonis said, giving her a slow, inviting smile. “I must admit I’m curious to know what spurred you to initiate a private meeting between us under Calpernia’s roof.”
“Indeed.”, Geldauran said, reaching for her handbag and pulling out three most interesting e-mails she had stolen from Paulus’ computer. “I have a proof that a group of magisters has been plotting your murder for last two years.”
The Archon’s smile disappeared, and the expression of a man preparing for an intimate encounter was replaced by cold, calculating business face. Geldauran found that she liked this one much better.
“Let me see.”, he held out his hand, and Geldauran offered him the papers.
She waited for few minutes while he read through them, knowing what they said. Their plan was quite shrewd. It centred around smuggling state lyrium stores to Kirkwall, and blaming the Archon for the loss. The culprit would be Calpernia, whom Paulus’ party disliked, and the elven workers in the state storage. The Archon would be blamed for it, since everyone knew he had Lucerni sympathies. His modern politics would be seen as weak, and he would be publicly ridiculed. The plan was set in several stages, and Geldauran suspected that when the members of conspiracy finally broke into Archon’s house, nobody would stand up to defend him. The Magisters Sidereal planned to drag him through the streets in humiliation and finally beheading him in the name of Old Gods at Imperial Senate stairs.
“It’s all in the code.”, Archon said finally, glaring at her sharply. “You know I need names to send templars after them.”
“For the right price, I have them.”, Geldauran replied.
Radonis’ eyes glinted with faint approval, and a trace of amusement.
“Name it, then. I always thought you had high aspirations for an elf. But before you speak, I need to remind you that there is no precedence for a widow to succeed her husband in magisterium. Not without an Altus ancestry, which you don’t have.”
“I’m not asking for myself. Our family doctor confirmed today that I’m three months pregnant.”, Geldauran smiled. “I think it’s unfair to blame my daughter for her father’s misjudgement. The family of Livernius has a proud history in Imperium, and Paulus is a single rotten apple in the family tree. I feel that her father’s seat in Magisterium would console my daughter for growing up without her father.”
Archon’s dark eyes were interested.
“If this happy event is occurring so soon, why to turn against your husband now? Surely your daughter would succeed him in any case? Her position would be much better if the conspirators succeeded in their plan.”, Radonis noted, opening the palm of his hand in querying gesture.
“My lord Archon, you surely know what my husband is like under his charming smiles and friendly words. You have seen few times during these years when he showed his true colours in public.”, Geldauran replied.
“I seem to recall something about an accident at Madame Aemilia’s. But the details are missing, I fear.”, the Archon said smoothly.
Geldauran’s cheeks were burning under her makeup, because she did not believe a moment that Archon would have forgotten the humiliation which had occurred at Aemilia’s house, but it was a memory she didn’t care to revisit. The event had killed any tender feelings she had left towards her husband and begun her search for revenge against Paulus. She had waited and smiled for seven years.
“How kind of you. But back to issue of my daughter. I fear my husband would not be thrilled for her arrival, and might take precautions to stop her from being declared his heir. Therefore, I think your Imperial Templars might be the best option to safeguard my daughter’s rights against Paulus’ bastard sons or distant relatives.”, Geldauran took a small pause.
She fixed her gaze at Archon’s eyes, and let her mouth curve in a slight smile which highlighted her best features. It was the same mysterious expression which had been all over the fashion magazines, once. She hoped she had judged this man right, because his reaction to her next words would decide the outcome of her plan. She had considered not telling, but truth would be found out in six months, and men in power never liked humiliation.
“You see, dear Radonis, the next lady Magister Livernius will have perfect little pointed ears. Thanks to Rivaini fertility clinic.”, Geldauran said sweetly. “I feel mine is better revenge than anything you may bestow upon the conspirators. Paulus will simply roll in his grave until the days end.”
Archon’s delighted laughter was the answer she had counted everything on. She had him.
--
Geldauran was declared the first elven Magister when she was six months pregnant. Officially, she was a stand-in for the House Livernius until her unborn daughter came of age, but the sudden and violent deaths of Paulus, Sethius Amladaris and other members of Magisters Sidereal did much to silence dissident voices. It was clear to everyone that nothing would happen in Tevinter without Archon Radonis’ blessing, and Archon Radonis wished to give her late husband’s seat to Geldauran.
The moment when she held the ceremonial staff in her hand and made her claim to be broadcasted all around Thedas was the proudest in her life, and the strong kick beneath the hand she held on her stomach made it perfect.
“There are no gods. There is only the subject and the object, the actor and the acted upon. Those with will to earn dominance over others gain title not by nature but by deed.”, she stated, looking at her fellow Magisters. Many faces looked sullen, some even frightened. Imperial Templars had swept through the city like storm of blood, leaving corpses in their wake.
“I am Geldauran. I claim power of my own, while others are consumed by their pride. I stand here, on this day, and I refuse those who would exert will upon me.”, Geldauran looked straight in the camera, unyielding. The silence was deafening for a moment, and then applauses started from the Liberati balcony. Her fellow elves stood up there, giving her a standing ovation, and their shouts drowned the silence of stone-faced magisters watching the fall of House Livernius.
--
Her hospital room was full of flowers from her friends and enemies, but Geldauran had eyes only for her daughter. She yawned, tiny rosy mouth opening, and made a small muffled noise when she looked at Geldauran with half-lidded eyes.
“Good morning, ma’len.”, Geldauran cooed, cradling her treasure against her chest. The labour had been long and hard, but she hadn’t slept a minute last night. The baby had fallen asleep on her chest, and Geldauran didn’t have a heart to move her away. She couldn’t sleep, in case the baby fell off, so she had spent most of the night just holding her and wondering how soft and small her baby was.
In the golden light of mid-morning, she noticed that her daughter had very short, red downy hair on the back of her head and laughed out loud. The baby widened her eyes at unexpected sound, and Geldauran smiled at her.
“Mamae is just surprised how perfect you are, da’len.”, she said, kissing the baby’s forehead. She had read everything on how important it was to cover the baby with beneficial, familiar bacteria in potentially dangerous setting as an hospital. But the truth was that Geldauran would have done it anyway. Children needed affection; love was what made them grow.
There was a knock on the door, and Geldauran pulled her daughter instinctively closer, sitting up in the bed. The door opened, and Archon Radonis’ dark face peeked behind the frame . He was pushing a black expensive pram.
“Good day. I came to meet and greet little magister Livernius. I heard they arrived last night. A lady or a lord? I didn’t know, so I picked black. Black always works.”, he said, parking the pram in the corner of the room. He operated the pram brakes with surprising efficiency; Geldauran had not thought Radonis would have any experience with baby things.
“Lady, of course. Lady Roshan Livernius.”, Geldauran said, carefully lowering the baby for his inspection.
“Elvish name? What does it mean?”, Archon asked gleefully, noticing the sharp tips of baby’s tiny ears.
“Enduring happiness.”, Geldauran answered, stroking the baby’s cheek fondly with her fingertips.
“Excellent name. I was told you both are fine, and discharging you is just a formality. Apparently, your doctor is currently assisting in another labour, and she wants to see lady Roshan before you leave. I thought I could take you for a walk while you wait.”, Radonis suggested.
“A walk?”, Geldauran repeated suspiciously.
“Yes. The Imperial Park is not far, and it’s very beautiful this time at year. Full of people, of course, but I have guards.”, Radonis said. He flipped the brake off, and moved the pram close to bed.
Leaning closer to Geldauran, he whispered in her ear:
“I simply have to see their faces when they notice the ears. I’ve been waiting for this for six months, and I’m not letting the flying rumours ruin my moment!”
Geldauran sighed.