Alean had taken up spinning and sewing to help support her little family. She was unused to hard work and her fingers were hurting after every day spent at the spinning wheel, but she was doing her best to ignore it.
What was harder to ignore was when she started to feel ill. It started as a simple cough and feeling tired, but it grew steadily worse and worse.

Sometimes she even woke at night by coughing fits, that were so bad at times that she couldn't breathe.
She tried to hide the illness from Dorian, though. She had promised him to be a good wife and she didn't want to disappoint him. She didn't want him to think her weak and useless, especially when she felt him growing colder and more indifferent to her already.

Baby Alysanne provided most of her comfort. She loved her daughter with all her heart and even though she was sad Dorian didn't seem to care about his own child very much, she actually liked getting up to check on her. Even her illness and the fact she felt exhausted most of the time didn't spoil it.
It was reassuring to love and be loved unconditionally and even more to be truly needed. She had used to think she had that with her husband as well, but she wasn't sure any more.

When little Alysanne's first birthday came, Alean baked a cake and put together as good a celebration as the family's means would allow her.
Dorian watched the girl fuss with the baby and make various stupid noises at her. It was clear she wanted him to join in her excitement, but he just didn't see the reason why he should. It only meant the baby would need new clothes and more food, after all.
The truth was, he was growing bored with the girl, her stupid chatting and her stupid love and even more with the little constantly crying bundle in her arms. At least the baby kept most of the girl's attention away from him, but that was about the only thing it was good for.

Still, the little money the girl could make with her sewing was more than welcome, especially with the baby growing so fast.
When Dorian went to the market to buy cloth for the first time, he was worried he would be mocked there. He still remembered far too well the last time and the painful humiliation before the whole village. But it seemed nobody was interested in him anymore.

He got used to just doing his business in peace and leaving again, but one day to his great surprise he saw the lady Talia, lord Lothar's new wife, on the marketplace.
Dorian didn't know what the lady was doing there, clearly her shopping would be done by a servant, but he spotted an opportunity. If he could get on her good side, maybe it would be the leverage against her stepson that he needed so much.

Dorian begun carefully, unsure how the lady would react to his reputation - or even what exactly his reputation was by that time - but she certainly seemed pleased enough with his compliments.
It only took Dorian a few minutes to see she had a sharp wit, she was proud, both of her beauty and her standing... and she was bored with the small village and her aging husband. When he suggested that her intellect was wasted in this place, she almost purred with satisfaction that someone finally recognised her true worth.

Encouraged by his success, Dorian turned on his charm even more. The lady Talia was no hussy, but she seemed a good target nevertheless, if he knew how to play her.
Dorian even got the lady to admit she liked him, but...

...when he tried to suggest getting to know each other better, nothing too risky, just riding on the general relaxed mood between them, Talia drew back, suddenly cold and distanced.
"I have a certain reputation I have to keep." She said.
Was it his own reputation that put her off, Dorian wondered, or was she just too conscious of the risks? And, more importantly, would she crack over time?

For the time being, though, he contented himself with slipping back into safe conversation. He volunteered a few stories about those whose reputation wasn't as spotless as hers, hoping to distract her from his own misdeeds. Talia's humour proved to be sharp and vicious. She delighted in dirty secrets and transgressions of others and she was merciless in her remarks.
To his own surprise, Dorian found himself truly enjoying himself. He loved the sense of superiority they both got from laughing at others and it was refreshing to realise that despite her prim poise, Talia was in fact no moralist.

Around the same time, Alean was doing her best to repair her relationship with the priest. She needed someone to talk to, someone who could actually talk back, and after Liam's disastrous visit she was still afraid to go back to her family.
Father Ambrose, thankfully, was willing to give her another chance. At least that was one person she didn't turn away from herself for ever... and Alean needed the Watcher's guidance now more than ever, with a little child and the still lingering illness hanging over her.

Father Ambrose was actually more than happy to see little Alean not just repentant but partly content as well. He had felt sorry for the girl and saw she needed someone mature and sensible to balance out Dorian's influence.
And speaking about influence and paternal roles... Ambrose felt an instant liking towards baby Alysanne. She was such a bright, cheerful child, always happy and always creative, Ambrose almost couldn't believe she was Dorian's daughter.
Soon he was spending as much time with the little girl she started calling him "papa", a sad proof of how much time her own father spent with her. But when she insisted on showing him the musical instrument she had assembled herself out of some sticks and play some music for him - probably composed by her on the spot - he couldn't hep being impressed.

In this way, Alean grew into a full adult. The change went unnoticed by everyone, possibly including herself at the very moment. There was certainly no cake and no celebration - she had already been a wife and a mother for some time and nothing was supposed to change.
She just hoped the sickness and exhaustion would soon pass and she could spent more time working. Dorian was doing well with his weaving, but he had other things to attend to as well. And wasn't Alean's job to help support her child?

Her baby daughter was still her priority, though. Alean did what she could to make little Alysanne feel loved and secure, she told her fairy-tales, taught her nursery rhymes...

...taught her her first steps. Alysanne was so bright, so fast in making progress Alean sometimes couldn't even believe it.
These were the times Alean could forget everything, the strange distance and cold feeling between her and Dorian, their poverty and her own exhaustion.

And then there were the times when the problems came back with a vengeance. As summer was slowly turning into autumn, the sickness returned with new strength.
Alean tried to ignore it again, but it was harder and harder. The coughing fits were becoming stronger and more frequent almost by the day and when they overcame her, Alean couldn't do anything except fight for her next breath.

Dorian didn't really notice his wife's struggle, he had other problems at the moment.
He had been doing his best to break Talia's icy facade for some time, but the lady didn't react to anything even vaguely romantic, no matter how subtle he tried to be. He only managed to irritate her and he certainly didn't want that. He definitely didn't want her to go to her husband and complain of him seducing her - that would earn him another whipping for sure.

One night, Alean was woken by a coughing fit again. She tried to be as quiet as possible as she waited for it to pass, not wanting to wake her husband as well. Not that he usually did, but Dorian was always grumpy when woken up early.
Only this time, it didn't pass. The girl felt suddenly dizzy. She reached for the bed just behind her, but before she could sit down, everything went spiralling into darkness.
She collapsed on the floor.

This was how she died, silently, next to her still sleeping husband. Only baby Alysanne woke up and wept silently, understanding only that something bad was happening.

Dorian woke up to his daughter's desperate wailing. Baby Alysanne was hungry, wet, and above all lonely and scared.
Dorian somehow managed to clean and feed her, but he didn't succeed in consoling her. Not that he tried too much, anyway.

It was only father Ambrose who managed that, when he visited the house to give his condolences to Dorian and discuss the burial.
He didn't like the state of the household at all, even more than he expected he would. He seemed to be the first one to give the baby any serious attention while Dorian was even colder and more distanced than usual. The priest understood he was mourning his beloved wife, but that shouldn't mean neglecting his child, should it?

Alean was buried in a short, private ceremony. Dorian had requested her family not be present, they were the ones who had cut her off from both contact and family wealth and status, they had no right to her now. Not even after her death, not after not giving her any support and any dowry.
Dorian listened to father Ambrose's speech and realised he didn't even care much about the burial itself, just about the fact that the insufferable brat and his father were not allowed to be there. For him, it may have been an end to a period in his life, but he wasn't even sure himself how important it had ever been to him.