39010 réponses à ce sujet

[Maria13]

Hey JJ lucky, lucky you and with a southern accent a la Bill in True Blood... Maker, you are one fortunate Alistarian... Did you get his address?

[Maricsblade]

@Eiona—Glad to have done so, and please do start writing for us…God knows we need more Alistair/DA:O fic/ficlets in the fandom since DA2 came out!!

@Maria—She really should have taken a picture for us, don't you think?!?! (Make that a video clip…)

[theskymoves]

A smutless Smut Thursday? Y'all better stop slacking, or I'll be forced to start posting regularly again!

Let's see... Alistair working his magic on a couple of red-headed mages.

Modifié par theskymoves, 06 octobre 2011 - 11:56 .

[Maricsblade]

@tsm Thanks, I needed that. I was gonna go get some caps for today, but my stupid computer crashed (the other one). Just before that, I went back to camp after Alistair dumped my mage. I tried the dialog options (was surprised there were any, TBH). No surprises, felt fine, started planning for Redcliffe, then all of a sudden, BAM! Tears start running down my face. Realized I didn't want him in my party either. This freaking game.

So I wonder how I'd feel about his character if I hadn't just happened to pick a Cousland first. I know there are a lot of female players who don't care for him all that much, and I wonder how many genuinely just didn't like him and how many had their hearts ripped out on their first PT.

[Penarddun]

I wonder how many genuinely just didn't like him and how many had their hearts ripped out on their first PT.

I've wondered that too. I got lucky. My first playthrough (was an elf mage) that I played on my friend's xbox. But for some insane and (thank the Maker) wonderful reason, I didn't make Alistair King. I didn't know about hardening him, so he clearly didn't want to be king, and Anora seemed worthy to me (I got lucky and got her good dialogue), so she seemed alright and backed me at the landsmeet and I backed her for the throne.
And Alistair and I froliced off for other adventures. :wub:


But a friend of mine (who also played an elf mage first), had not hardened Alistair, and pushed him to be king, and he broke up with her, and she "ran around redcliffe alone crying for a long time" afterwards. Her words. ^^

Then she sacrificed herself to the Archdemon.

And she does not have any lingering fangirl reaction to Alistair. She started playing DA2 and loved the rivalry Fenris romance. She admits that Origins was a lot better in character interaction, but although she says the breakup with Alistair was so realistic and painful, she hasn't fallen for him in any lasting way. She only got half way through her second playthrough (human noble) before she stopped playing, and went on to something else. *shrugs*

@tsm - I love that first picture. And classic Alistair is my favorite. Mmmmm.
What hair style is your Warden using, btw? I love the upsweep look to it. So elegant.

Modifié par Penarddun, 07 octobre 2011 - 06:45 .

[theskymoves]

{{{{{alisgirl}}}}}

My first Warden was a Tabris who romanced Alistair. I managed to get through that PT relatively unspoiled, but I understood that things were not going to be happily-ever-after if he was king. (Between his equivocation in the "Where do you see this going between us?" convo, Wynne's gloom-and-doom admonishments about the relationship, and the lowest rung position of an Alienage Elf on the ladder of Ferelden society, it would have been difficult to come to any other conclusion.) I kinged Alistair anyway, and let him dump her (b/c it seemed like that was what he really wanted). When he walked out of the room and left her there, alone, I was devastated. It took me a long time to even think about finishing that PT. When I did complete it, I left Alistair out of my party for the duration (which was kind of awful and added insult to injury, since he was my only Warrior); the only dialogue I had with him was the Ritual persuasion convo and whatever is forced by game mechanics (and I Esc key-ed through as much of that as I could).

I've never really thought about it before, but in retrospect, I imagine that first playthrough has coloured all of the ones that followed, and why they generally end so badly. I really do envy all of you who can resist (or never experience) the urge to intentionally screw things up for the the star-crossed Warden lovers.  /incoherent rambling

@Penarddun - That hair is from the LOTC Hairstyle Collection, which has a lot of really nice styles. (For human females only, though.) *sad elf*

pax~
tsm

Modifié par theskymoves, 07 octobre 2011 - 03:15 .

[Maricsblade]

@Penarddun—That's interesting, because a lot of people say they immediately start up a HFN once they find out about the happy-ending possibility. And some of them don't even finish the first, ill-fated PT to do it. But maybe getting dumped really does "break" Alistair for many players.

@tsm—Just curious, did you manage to harden Alistair that first time? Or were you thinking he wanted to be king because you were tempted to spare Loghain and he pulled the "I'll become king if that's what it takes for Loghain to get justice" thing?

Yes, I feel a bit simple now. I've experienced the dumping a couple of times in a branch that I never completed, and one of them was truly a surprise (HFN and unhardened Alistair), and it did sting. But mostly I've been wandering around for months as this total fangirl who doesn't *really* understand how anyone can not love him to death. I'll force myself to finish this PT (she's considering sacrificing herself at this point), and then do a Redeemer, and see how it goes after that. I guess I got waylaid by the meme and writing and Tumblr, and never went back and did alternate PTs, which is pretty poor if you truly want to get to know the characters.

I REALLY wish I'd discovered this game when it first came out. By the time I finish several PTs, absolutely nobody will be playing DA:O anymore. :-p

Edit: I've changed my Myers-Briggs type for him too. I used to think he was ENFP but now I'm thinking ENFJ, given how dogged he is about duty no matter whether he's hardened or not. But he's a broken ENFJ, not given to leadership outright, though he sort of does push from behind the scenes. I guess it's understandable given his lineage and what it would have meant for him if he'd been a born leader. I know a lot of people see him as an introvert, but I find him so immediately warm and chatty that I have trouble with that (he also mentions wanting to scream in the monastery because it's too quiet, which I can't see an introvert ever doing).

Modifié par alisgirl, 07 octobre 2011 - 03:45 .

[Maricsblade]

Oh yeah, and {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{ tsm }}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}} for that first PT!

[ShimmeringDjinn]

[theskymoves]

@alis - He was hardened, because she was a pretty tough cookie, all pragmatism and school of hard knocks. Alistair was her one soft spot, and from the moment he opened his mouth in Redcliffe, she knew it was doomed, because he was a "somebody", and she was nobody. As an Alienage Elf, Tabris had no reason to support Anora, and I actually think Alistair is the one who convinced me to support him, even before the Landsmeet. (It would have been the dialogue where he talks about how she is exactly like her father.) Sparing Loghain never crossed my mind, and actually, I probably let Alistair duel Loghain and make himself king... it's been a while, and I've since replayed that PC... but in any event, my intention going into the Landsmeet was 100% to put Alistair on the throne, solo.

And thanks for {{ }}'s! I've actually had a worse PT (my poor US Surana, who torments me in my dreams... the PTs where I king Alistair are always disastrous!). I sometimes wonder if I made a huge mistake not playing as a HNF the first time out.

Another bewildered fangirl~
tsm (with apologies if that was all TMI)

Modifié par theskymoves, 07 octobre 2011 - 08:54 .

[Penarddun]

alisgirl wrote...
I REALLY wish I'd discovered this game when it first came out. By the time I finish several PTs, absolutely nobody will be playing DA:O anymore. :-p

I feel the same way. I'm only starting my 4th PT. I want to experience all the possibilities and learn more about the characters. Really need to start going to Orzammar first too, because I want more time to talk to Oghren, who always seems to get recurited and then we're off to the landsmeet. And then I'll start PTs on the PC (which has so much extra content). Wow, I have a long ways to go until I'm done with DA:O.

I wonder how many people are newly discovering the game (and Alistair) at present.

@tsm Thanks! Another hairstyle to add to the list.

@ShimmeringDjinn Is that a tiny Morrigan in the background? Looks like she's debating whether to turn Alistair into a frog.

Modifié par Penarddun, 07 octobre 2011 - 09:19 .

[ShimmeringDjinn]

Penarddun wrote...

alisgirl wrote...
I REALLY wish I'd discovered this game when it first came out. By the time I finish several PTs, absolutely nobody will be playing DA:O anymore. :-p

I feel the same way. I'm only starting my 4th PT. I want to experience all the possibilities and learn more about the characters. Really need to start going to Orzammar first too, because I want more time to talk to Oghren, who always seems to get recurited and then we're off to the landsmeet. And then I'll start PTs on the PC (which has so much extra content). Wow, I have a long ways to go until I'm done with DA:O.

I wonder how many people are newly discovering the game (and Alistair) at present.

@tsm Thanks! Another hairstyle to add to the list.

@ShimmeringDjinn Is that a tiny Morrigan in the background? Looks like she's debating whether to turn Alistair into a frog.

Lol Yes it is unfortunately. I didn't realise she was in the picture until after I already decided to post it
I think I'm on my 20th/ish play through (I've just started yet another Female Surana because I love her) and that's just on the PC version Oghren is one of my favourite companion's, you should definitely recruit him early in the game at least once, preferably before doing the broken circle so you can take him with you.

[Maricsblade]

@tsm—Will you please post your lovely little Easter Egg here, too?!?! PWEASE XD

[java_jive_girl]

My first play through was as a rouge Dalish elf (on the PS3 version). I didn't know about the hardening and didn't make him king. Kariah (my character, of course) was not just Dalish, but a bit of a feminist, too, so she had the right conversation with Anora (luckily, so Anora never back-stabbed them at the LM) and was all for having a powerful woman on the throne. She and Alistair ran off into the sunset together as grey wardens. This is probably my favorite ending and it probably is because it was my first...aaaand I personally do prefer an adventurer over someone who has power, but has to be all "posh."

I, also, cannot understand why a woman WOULDN'T like Alistair. I know everyone has their own likes and dislikes in a romantic interest, but it's ALISTAIR! The whole dumping thing (that HAS happened in a different play through for me) I never take personally...my poor warden...it stings and she has to go sacrifice herself, but she also understands that it isn't because he suddenly doesn't love her...it's just that Alistair is so completely unselfish that he will put the future of Ferelden over his own happy ending.

As far as him being an introvert...nah. He's just reserved at times, I believe. I'm like that in a way, myself. Sometimes people mistake me for being shy, but I really just don't talk unless I feel I have something worth contributing...or maybe I'm just not it the mood. I've also been known to get on a table and dance (not in the stripper way, but rather the random, fun, get a reaction out of a dull situation way)...at least in my younger days. So...I can relate.

@Maria and Alisgirl, regarding the Ali-look-a-like, I seriously tried to figure out a way to ask if I could take his picture with my camera phone with out sounding like a complete creeper, but I couldn't figure out a way...I DID get his address AND phone number, but that's only because he ordered something that required that information. It is now in my companies database, but not in my own hands.

Modifié par java_jive_girl, 08 octobre 2011 - 03:34 .

[Maricsblade]

@jjg—I know that Alistair "technically" still loves my Warden, but you don't really see any of his pain after the actual event, so it's easy to forget… your Warden sounds more forgiving than mine, so far.

Yeah, I would be so tempted to use that phone number. But I think that stuff only works in the movies :-\\

Modifié par alisgirl, 08 octobre 2011 - 03:55 .

[Penarddun]

What happens when Alistair breaks up with the Warden, does he still sacrifice himself? I've heard a lot of different things. And I haven't done an Alistair sacrifice yet so I don't know from personal experience. Is there some dialogue at the end there where he takes back what he said when he broke up with the Warden? Or am I making that up?


@jjg: I thought I was the only one. But my Dalish elf felt a sort of pride putting Anora on the throne, in an otherwise male-dominated human society. When I played a HNF I didn't like Anora, but after playing my Dalish, I'm seeing another side to Anora.

Modifié par Penarddun, 08 octobre 2011 - 04:23 .

[theskymoves]

By request *waves to alisgirl*, some video I posted on tumblr/YouTube earlier this evening, of Alistair's rose conversation. Toward the end is some dialogue that (AFAIK) only opens up outside of camp and if Alistair and the Warden are traveling alone. That bit is one of my favorite flirty exchanges between the Warden and Alistair.

Alistair gives Esme a rose

"Who needs a tent. For stuff."   *tsm dies a million deaths* 

pax~
tsm

Modifié par theskymoves, 08 octobre 2011 - 04:54 .

[RagingCyclone]

What? No Prompt yet? Naughty Naughty.



So here is one:

Victory at Last!

[RagingCyclone]

To start off here is one from the Dan and Alistair stories, it's rather longish.

To explain a little, Alistair met a mage and fell in love, and her name is Serena Amell. However, she dies at Redcliffe just before the final battle in Denerim. Here is the inspiration for the weekyl prompt:


Victory at Last
Darkness it was all around him. He could not see, smell, hear, or feel anything. The last things he remembered was plunging his sword…the family sword…into the skull of the dragon. It was the Archdemon that he killed, and afterwards as it died there was a blinding flash of light as its life-force left its body. The light was not the only thing as a wave of energy pounded against his body throwing him away from the dragon’s corpse. That was the last thing he remembered…hitting something hard…harder than he had ever been hit before. But after that there was nothing. Was this death? Had Morrigan’s ritual…the one she swore would save them all...had it failed? He could not feel his body so he had to be dead. But there was still the darkness. He had always been taught that upon death he would go to the Fade, but this was not like the Fade when he was there before. Was it different when you died? He tried to look around him to see something, but there was nothing but blackness. Did he even have eyes to see in the afterlife? Was this what the Arcane Warrior he found in the Brecilian Forest felt trapped in that gem? Was this oblivion? There was nothingness…and this scared him.
Leliana! What had happened to her? Was she alive? Was she trapped in nothingness like he was? Now he was horrified. If she lived and he died…she already told him she could not live without him…panic washed over him as the trap became all the more real…the trap of death. He wanted to save her from this…but he could not reach her…could not see her…was she already here? What was that? A sound? He tried to locate it…but it was gone. There it was again…a sound…but where was it coming from? He had no eyes to see with…no body to feel out with…and there it was again….was it a name? His name…it was his name…but who was saying it? He wanted to scream out that he could hear it…who was it? Was it the Maker? There it was again…definitely his name. And a voice…a voice he remembered…but who’s voice was it?
“Please talk to me…I can hear you,” he screamed in his thoughts. “Tell me where to go!”
It was silent again. The voice was gone. He felt himself slipping into despair. So close…who was it saying his name? Why could they not hear him? Why did they leave? But was it getting brighter? He could not tell, but the darkness around him was…less. Yes! It was becoming gray…light was nearby…and it was getting brighter…and he could see again…but only shapes…and red! He could see red…is that a face?
“Is that…Leliana?” he thought. “Can you hear me? Leliana! Is that you?”
There was no answer, but it was lightening. And Pain! Deep, sharp, stabbing pain! He could feel his arms and legs, his chest and back, and there was so much pain. Every part of him hurt…and he was laying on the ground…no…he was laying against something…a wall or some other structure…and his head hurt…and he felt blood…blood running down his cheeks, his arms, his legs…was it his blood? He could taste it in his mouth…with his tongue.
“DAN!”
He looked with his eyes…tried to speak…the light was becoming clearer…the face…her face…Leliana’s face…he could see her…
“Dan! Can you hear me?” she shouted.
He tried to answer…to tell her something…anything…he could hear her. He struggled to speak and lift his arm…but he could get no more than a murmur…no more than a slight movement of his arm. Her hands…he could feel her hands on his face.
“Dan…you cannot die on me! I will not let you die on me! DAN!” Tears…he saw tears on her cheeks…she was crying.
“I’m not dead,” he wanted to scream, but all he managed was an incoherent mumble. He was beginning to see her more clearly now. There was a haze around her, but he could definitely see her. She reared her head back and screamed into the air, “DAN!” All of his senses returned to their full capacity at once. His vision instantly cleared, he could hear everything around him, could feel her leaning over him, and then the pain came. His body lurched and startled her. His eyes were wide open and taking in everything around him. He could feel the rooftop floor under him, the steps on his back. He saw bodies…elves, humans, and dwarves…and darkspawn bodies…and people walking around…standing…leaning over others…helping them stand…and across from him fifty yards away was the body of the dragon…the Archdemon. He looked back her as she brought her forehead to his.
“For a moment there I thought I had lost you,” she cried.
“For a moment there I thought I was lost,” he replied. “But I could never ask for a more wondrous and beautiful sight to awaken to.”
“I don’t know what I would do if you had died.” She kissed him. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” she admonished him smiling through her tears.
“Trust me…I don’t ever want to do that again either,” he replied and then kissed her.
“How do you feel?” she asked after they finally finished their long kiss.
“I hurt…all over…a lot,” he replied and tried to grin. That hurt as well. “How did I end up all the way over here?”
“When the dragon died there was a flash of light and then some sort of magical wave that knocked us all over, but it threw you all the way over here.”
“And Alistair? Is he alive?” he asked. He could smell the blood and death around them…the fire and the smoke. He could hear men and women dying…others shouting orders…calling for help. He could sense everything clearly now.
“He is alive…and well.”
“And Morrigan? Is she…”
“Gone,” Leliana said solemnly. “We were all knocked unconscious for a short time. By the time we awoke she was already gone.”
“So it worked then…her ritual,” he stated. She only nodded. “And the darkspawn? Have they fled?” He did not see any living ones when he looked around.
“Yes…they began fleeing as soon as you thrust your sword into the dragon’s head.”
“Then it’s over,” he said with a sigh. He looked up into her eyes. “Leliana, marry me.”
“You are asking me this now?”
“Can you think of a better time? We are here…alive…in each other’s arms…and the Blight is over…I can think of no better time to think of the future…our future…than right now. Marry me.”
She smiled and kissed him. “Yes…I will marry you.” And then she kissed him again.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alistair was talking to Arl Eamon, First Enchanter Irving, Lanaya, Kardol, and some of the others survivors on the rooftop of Fort Drakon. The darkspawn here had fled as soon as the Archdemon had been slain. He looked across the flooring to see Leliana with Dan apparently kissing. He had grown used to seeing the couple do this after ever battle they had fought together. He looked over to the Arl.
“Eamon, please see to helping the injured and dying,” Alistair demanded.
“As you wish, your highness,” Eamon replied.
Alistair cringed at the last part. It was something he guessed he would have to get used to. He left the others and started walking towards his friends. He reached them just as Leliana helped Dan struggle to stand.
“Why is it every time after a battle I look and find you two kissing?” he said with a smile.
“It’s just our way,” Dan grinned. “How you feeling?”
“Fine except for the whole thinking my head was going to explode part,” the king replied.
“What from?” Leliana asked.
“Yeah, Alistair? I was the one thrown fifty yards.”
“You didn’t hear it? The scream?” Alistair asked.
“I really don’t remember much of anything,” Dan replied. “I remember plunging my sword into the dragon, darkness, and then waking up with Leliana screaming over me.”
“When you killed it…the Archdemon…there was an agonizing scream…so powerful I thought I was dying. I mean it was everywhere. Leliana I don’t expect you to have heard it, but Dan…you didn’t hear it?”
“Maybe that’s what made be black out,” Dan responded. “Like I said…I thrust my sword into its head…then darkness…then I awoke to Leliana leaning over me. I can remember bits and pieces of trying to wake…but no scream.”
“I suppose that could be,” he replied rubbing his chin. “I just know it was as intense as the nightmares we had just before coming here. I could feel it die…and then I woke up on my back.”
“Well whatever it was it’s gone now. Personally, I just want to get this armor off,” Dan grinned again.
“I will see both a little later. For now I need to help these men and women,” Alistair stated.
“I think I will come help,” Leliana added. She then looked to Dan. “Why don’t you go rest over there by the parapet? I will come get you in a bit…my betrothed.” She gave him a quick kiss and then darted off to help Arl Eamon and the others.
“Betrothed?” Alistair said looking after her and then to Dan.
“I’ll tell you later,” Dan grinned and began limping to the parapets to remove the armor that had become so cumbersome.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The king looked over the parapet to the city below. The rooftop had been cleared for an hour now, and night had fallen. The sky was aglow from fires raging all over the city. The battle was devastating, and the number of the dead continued to climb as more and more succumbed to their injuries. The last of the work on the rooftop, the collecting of blood from the corpse of the Archdemon, had just been completed by the mages. First Enchanter Irving was aware of the procedures for preserving the blood, and it was essential to future recruiting of Grey Wardens. Irving had asked the king if he needed any assistance, and Alistair kindly refused allowing the elder mage depart. The pain he felt no amount of magic could heal.
His thoughts drifted to the mage he left behind at Redcliffe. She was the one he wished was there at his side, the one who had sacrificed herself to save him. He missed her as he continued to look over the city. His heart ached that she was not there to share the victory, and with her absence it seemed all the more hollow to him. He pounded his gauntleted hand into the stone wall and fell to one knee. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he lost himself in his pain. His closest friends, Dan and Leliana, were getting married. They were finally going to live the life they wanted free of the Blight. It was bittersweet for Alistair. He was happy for the couple, but it only brought his own pain to the surface. He did his best to hide it from his friends not wanting to spoil their happiness, and now that he was alone the pain and sorrow poured out of him…he could not hold it back any longer. He sat back against the wall and tore off his gauntlets and threw them to the side. He next removed his breastplate and threw it near the gauntlets, and then he buried his face in his hands. He was openly weeping now, the heartache deeper and more profound than he had ever felt. The last few hours while others worked around him he kept seeing her face amongst the crowd of people. Her smile…sparkling eyes…the wind gently blowing in her hair…and as he tried to reach her she disappeared only to show up somewhere else. He knew his mind was playing tricks with him, and yet anything was possible with magic. He wanted so much for her to be there, to touch her again, to tell her how much he missed her, but she was not there and the cruel mind tricks had continued.
He didn’t know long he sat crying, but he gathered his wits and collected his armor. It was time to head down to the courtyard before someone came looking for him. He made the lonely walk down each story of the fort until he reached the main floor. People were here still cleaning the mess, and in the main room, where the genlock shapeshifter had attacked, the bodies had been piled until they could be taken outside to be identified and then burned. Several stopped to bow to him as he walked past, and he did his best to return a gesture to each of them. Despite his melancholy these people had fought hard and worked harder starting the rebuilding process…something that always began with cleanup first. A squire was amongst the workers in the courtyard when Alistair emerged from the fort and asked him for the honor of carrying his armor. Alistair relented and removed the rest of it so the squire could take the whole set to the palace. He kept his sword and shield with him, however, and stopped to look at the bloody blade before sheathing it. He had seen too much blood in the recent years and months, but the blood he remembered at that moment was hers. His mind flashed back to the courtyard at Redcliffe…her body falling to the ground with the arrow sticking out of her chest…her eyes lifeless as Dan reached over to close them. A tear fell from his eye, and if one had been looking at his face it would have gleamed in the firelight amongst the dirt and grime that was streaked from his sobbing earlier. He swallowed hard and choked back any other tears trying to subdue the memory. He was king now, and he had to be strong for those in the city who had lost loved ones of their own. He was not alone in suffering that pain, and as their new king they would be looking to him for solace and guidance.
He continued to walk the streets towards the palace. He stopped from time to time to help others trying to clean up the areas around them, helped to pile bodies and start fires for others. The devastation was even worse here on the ground than it had looked from the rooftop of the fort. Those he helped thanked him profusely, and those he comforted were grateful for the kindness of their king. When he finally reached the palace he made his way to his chambers waving off servants and guests claiming weariness and promising to see them in the morning after a good night’s rest. Only Arl Eamon protested, but with a simple look the man backed away not wanting to provoke the former warden. He closed the door to his rooms, threw his shield down onto the ground, and leaned his sheathed sword against a chair. He then walked to the balcony overlooking the city to once again take in the view from a different vantage. Death and destruction was everywhere…no part of the city had emerged unscathed. And immediately once alone his thoughts returned to her…Serena…
“Alistair.”
He spun around at the voice. “Who is that? Who is there?” he asked.
“Alistair.”
He walked cautiously into his room. “Who are you?” He saw her come into the center of the room. It was her…Serena…wearing a flowing white gown…her face angelic…her eyes alive…”What are you? Why do you torment me with this…this vision?”
“Don’t you recognize me, my love?” Serena asked.
“You’re not her…can’t be her…she died…in my arms…”
“It is me, Alistair,” she said as she crossed the room and placed her hand on his cheek. “You fought bravely today.”
“I miss…” and they he swatted her hand away. “I don’t believe this. You must be a demon…come here to torment me…”
“I am no demon, my love.”
“Then are you a dream? Am I asleep?”
“You are not asleep, Alistair, and this is no dream. I am really here,” she replied with a smile and placed her hand on his cheek again. He did not bat it away this time.
“How can this be? You are dead,” he whispered.
“I’ve come back to say goodbye, my love. We didn’t get a chance to in Redcliffe.”
“I…I miss you, Serena,” he said and brought his hand up to hers.
“I cannot stay long, my love,” she started, “but I wanted to tell you how much I love you. And to say goodbye so that you can find peace.” She withdrew her hand and turned to walk away.
“Wait! Don’t go! Not again!” he pleaded.
“I cannot stay, Alistair,” she said looking back at him. “This is no longer my world. You must move on and forget me.”
“I can’t…I can’t forget you,” he said crying. “Why can’t you stay?”
“All the death here has weakened the veil for a short time that I could cross to see you, but I cannot stay. No matter how much either of us would want it…it cannot be.” She crossed back to place her hand on his cheek again. “My love, you must let go and live. I want you to move on with your life.”
He swallowed hard. “I don’t know that I can. I am not strong enough…”
“You are and you can,” she whispered. “It’s those things about you…they are why I fell in love with you. But you must move on…be king…rule well…and find another love…please, for me.” She leaned in and kissed him.
Alistair felt her kiss, and when he opened his eyes she was gone. He looked around the room, but there was no sign she had ever been there. The emptiness he felt on top of the fort returned. He walked to the edge of his bed, sat down, and began crying again. Whether what he had just seen and felt was real or part his longing imagination did not matter…

Alistair walked in the dining hall of the palace after washing himself off. He had just finished a restless night and decided to break his fast before heading back into the city to see what needed to be done. With daylight he expected to better see the devastation the darkspawn had left behind them. He found Dan already awake and half finished with a plate of bacon, eggs, and some bread.
“Morning,” Dan said as the king sat across from the table from him. “How did you sleep?”
“Back and forth,” Alistair said with half a grin. “You?”
“Like a baby. I didn’t even move around a lot according to Leliana.” Dan grinned back and took a drink of whatever he had in his goblet. Alistair guessed some sort of fruit juice.
“No nightmares?”
“If I did I don’t remember them,” Dan replied. “Did you?”
“I’m not sure,” Alistair said pouring himself a goblet of wine. He gave an order for his breakfast with a servant who then left. “Tell me something, Dan. Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Ghosts?” Dan asked with a shrug. “I suppose I do being that we’ve seen spirits, demons, and walking corpses. Why do you ask?”
“I think I saw Serena in my room last night.”
“Oh?”
“She seemed so real. She talked to me, and then she was gone,” Alistair said quietly.
“May I ask what she told you?”
“She told me she loved me, that she wanted to say goodbye since we didn’t really get to, and that I should move on a find another love and be a good king.”
“Do you think it was her? I mean do you think she came back from the dead to see you?”
“Remember what I told you about those spirits back in Haven?” asked the king.
“Yeah.”
“She felt like those…and I closed my eyes for one second when she kissed me…and when I opened them she was gone.”
“And you‘re sure it just wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you? Yesterday was a rough and exhausting day,” Dan stated. “I mean…what she told you, real or not, I think was good advice. And if she was real…I mean coming back through the veil…she really cares enough about you to tell you to move on. I think I would, in your position, honor her by honoring her wishes.”
“You could be right. Still…just seeing her brought back some painful feelings.”
“I’d like to be able to say I know what you are going through, but I can’t honestly say that. Just know that if you ever need to talk to me about anything…I’m here for you, my friend.”
“Thanks,” Alistair nodded. “Oh…in case I didn’t day it yesterday…congratulations on the betrothal. I’m happy for both of you.”
“Thanks, brother.”
The two men finished their meals and then left to help out in the city wherever they could. There were still many who needed help, and as the day grew on Alistair, King of Ferelden, forgot more about his pain as he felt the pain of those he now ruled over. He met with widow and widowers, orphans, parents who lost their children, and many more. He felt a little guilty about his wallowing the night before, and when he told Dan privately about it later his friend reminded him that even though he was king he was also just a man with feelings of his own. And like the city and the people around him would need time to heal, Dan reminded him that he would need time as well, but in the end things would be fine.

[Chernaya]

Speaking of Alistair sacrificing himself, that happened for me on my very first playthrough. D: I was horrified, because I did not see it coming at all. I refused Morrigan's ritual because I was scared it was something dangerous that would bite me back later, then when the last moments came up he wouldn't even let my warden do the final blow. It was sweet that he didn't want me to die, but I was too sad to be touched. I just remember sitting there during the credits thinking "...Well, that really sucks." xD; I made sure it didn't happen the next time around... :C

@Alisgirl: I might just give that a try. I actually feel more confident about my artistic skills than my writing skills, though... so I might drop some Alistair art around first... If I get up the courage to post it. xD haha

[rak72]

Nice prompt fills, everyone! Thank you!

[RagingCyclone]

I love your fill Ambra.

[Maricsblade]

Thanks for the fills, everyone…I don't think anyone minds when they come in…just glad to have some coming in.
@tsm—Thanks for posting that. Gonna go try and get that convo from one of my old saves. :wub:

[tklivory]

My first post/fill – please be gentle!

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Victory at Last!

Alistair stood at the window in Denerim palace, seeing nothing of the city laid out before him. The impromptu dancing of the soldiers that had been unexpectedly granted additional years with their families, the bonfires surrounded by the few citizens of Denerim that yet remained as they clasped hands and wept with relief, the blue flicker as the weary mages journeyed from injury to injury healing those who would not be wounded again – these did not register in his reddened eyes.

The sounds of victory surrounded him with as little effect. The songs of joy, the cries of solidarity, the bustle of people running around the palace cleaning and preparing for the victory feast – these did not register in his deafened ears.

He saw only one creature, heard only one soul. He watched as the solitary figure sitting in the courtyard below his window raised his head again and let loose a howl of utter anguish for the one who would not return.

Alistair closed his eyes as the Mabari’s howl again cut through to the emptiness within him. He closed his eyes and saw once more the damned afterimage that had been burned into his psyche, the slim silhouette of a young woman who had lost everything – once through the violence a human lord, then again through the stubborn pride of a royal bastard – but had continued on. She had had nothing left to fight for save duty, a duty he had abandoned, and she had completed the task that had been set before him.

He had followed her, that night, unable to stop himself. Unsure of what he could possibly do, he had slipped away from his royal bodyguards and ran through the piles of Darkspawn corpses to the top of the Fort. He had arrived just as she had pushed Loghain out of the way, snatched up Eamon’s sword from where it lay discarded, and threw herself at the weakened Old God with a cry of defiance. The sword descended, and the light, sound, and fury that swept over the Fort overwhelmed his own hoarse cry of loss and despair. By the time he realized she wouldn’t be getting up again, the Darkspawn had already begun their retreat, and the victory celebration had already started.

He would never know how long he stood there in the shadows, looking at the motionless Archdemon and the lithe, fragile form lying broken beside it. He would never know when the Mabari came over and licked him, then gently gripped his hand and guided him downstairs and back to the palace. He would never know when he finally emerged from his stupor to find himself staring blankly out of the window overlooking the tiny courtyard below. He knew only that the first thing he heard after seeing her fall was the despairing howl of a Mabari who had lost the center of his universe, and the first thing he saw was the snout raised towards the stars that had dictated her loss.

The despairing howl once more cut through the air, as it had since the night sky had convulsed with the bright white of a hero’s sacrifice. He wanted to howl himself and beat the air with his fists, wanted to smite the world that dared allow such an event to occur, wanted to run his sword through every person that celebrated in the city beyond the window. “She’s dead,” he whispered, but it did not affect the celebrants dancing in circles around the fires that consumed Darkspawn corpses. “She’s dead!” he screamed, before collapsing before the window and gripping his head in his hands. “And I did nothing.”

Suddenly a wet nose intruded itself upon his awareness. Startled, he turned to the Mabari that had suddenly appeared next to him. A long wet tongue swept over his face, removing the tears that wet his cheeks. A low whine filled the room as the Mabari butted his head into Alistair’s chest. Desperately gripping the one being who understood his grief, Alistair buried his head in the soft fur next to him and whispered, “I’m sorry, boy. I’m so sorry.” A low whuff answered him before the Mabari moved out of Alistair’s grip. Once again, the powerful jaws wrapped around Alistair’s hand and compelled him to movement. Uncaring of where he was led, he stumbled along behind the hound, not seeing the halls they navigated or the crowds they passed.

Eventually, the Mabari halted and released Alistair’s hand. Forcing his eyes to focus, Alistair tried to take in his surroundings. He was in a room he recognized, a small tack room tucked away next to the Landsmeet chamber, where the pages slept during marathon sessions. A man sat on a bench set to the side of the room, motionless in the subdued candlelight. Alistair’s canine guide barked sharply, and the man jerked as he turned to face them. Alistair found himself looking into the eyes of the man he had once considered his greatest enemy.

Those cool grey eyes gazed back at him, flicking over the younger man’s reddened eyes and tightly gripped hands. A tension hung between the two as they considered each other: the former Warden and the new Warden, each gaining what the other had lost through hatred and pride.

Alistair tried to remember the vitriol he had felt towards Loghain, the pure burning sensation that had seemed to sustain him through the worst battles early in the Blight before another, gentler emotion had replaced it – love. A love that had been eclipsed and ultimately displaced by the old, familiar hatred during the Landsmeet, a love that had been betrayed more cruelly than anyone could possibly deserve.

A love that would never, could never, return. Weakness bent his knees as that final realization swept over him, and Alistair collapsed onto an empty bench next to him.

Loghain Mac Tir sighed, straightening into a martial posture. “You have been informed, then.”

Unable to speak, Alistair could only nod.

Loghain closed his eyes. “Maric was my dearest friend,” Loghain said, with the same quiet dignity that had settled over him when he had submitted himself to her justice at the Landsmeet, “and I betrayed both of his sons.” He opened his eyes to meet Alistair’s gaze. “Anora was all I loved after my wife died, and I betrayed her through my acceptance of Howe.” The pain in Loghain’s eyes grew deeper as he continued his list. “Fereldan was my honor, my duty, and my purpose, and I betrayed it for the sake of phantom fears and past prejudice.”

Alistair remained silent, wrestling with what the older man was telling him.

“I betrayed everything I valued, everything I held dear, and everything that mattered,” Loghain murmured, “and she still gave me a new honor, a new purpose, and a new duty. I will never forget her,” he said, “and I will never celebrate her death.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Alistair turned his head away from Loghain. Suddenly a hand settled on his shoulder, and a voice murmured, “I will, however, celebrate her life and all that she gave me.” The hand gripped him tightly for a moment before letting go. “As should you.”

Eyes snapping open, Alistair found Loghain sitting beside him on the bench. “This is not Fereldan’s victory, young Alistair. This is not my victory, and it is not Weisshaupt’s victory. This is her victory. Honor her memory - honor her – by doing what she is not here to do.” The older man stood, slowly, as if the years settled on him more than they had before. Alistair watched him cross the room before pausing at the doorway and turning towards him once more.

“Forgive Fereldan.” His gaze turned towards the Landsmeet chamber, obviously remembering the events that had occurred in it only a few short weeks ago. With a heavy sigh, he left, and Alistair barely heard his final words. “Forgive yourself.”

Alistair never knew how long he sat there in the candlelit gloom, the silent Mabari lying next to his feet. He only knew that when he left the room, he left knowing that her last victory had, at last, been achieved.