Short fic about newly-crowned King Alistair coming to terms with being married to Anora, and vice versa.

He blacks out, or something, because the next thing Varric knows he’s at his desk with Bran standing over him with a pinched look on his face. “I got a kid.” Bran’s face somehow pinches further. “Like, from a store?” Varric whacks his head against his desk. in which varric's saddled with a kid, and hawke tries not to get too attached