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Fiona ([info]thefirstwarden) wrote in [info]colligo_threads,
@ 2011-03-28 02:27:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:alistair theirin, fiona

WHO: Fiona and Alistair Theirin
WHEN: After Fiona finds out oh hey her baby boy is all grown up
WHERE: Alistair's flat.
WHAT: Family reunion
RATING: TBD
STATUS: Incomplete



There were not many things left in life that Fiona feared. After all the horrors that she had lived through in her relatively short life she had managed to grow quite a tolerance for the terrifying. Now her usual reaction was simply to get angry instead. But this was something she never expected to face. Only hours earlier she had been dealing with her decision to give up her child, to hand him over to Maric to be placed somewhere that he would never know who or what she was. Others might judge her choice but there was no place for a child among the wardens and Fiona was nothing without the order. But now, now that tiny baby that looked up at her with that human face was grown. He was nearly as old as she was.

It was terrifying. Fiona knew that she was no mother. Certainly she had given birth to him and cared for him while making her journey, she was still caring for him. But in his life she had given him up before he could even begin to remember her and told a lie. While she knew her reasons she had no idea how Alistair would take them, if he would eve understand.

This would have been easier with Duncan or Maric here. Both of them were much better with people than she was. Still, she forced herself to make her way up the odd stairs. The only thing keeping her from panicking in this completely alien environment was the fact that she needed to find Alistair. He was still her son and she had to take care of him. If that meant explaining then that was what she would have to do. As she came up to the door she only hesitated for a moment before knocking.


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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-03-28 07:36 am UTC (link)
Part of her had almost hoped that the door would not open, that she would just be stuck out in this hall and she would never have to face whatever it was that this was. She had grown up without parents, in fact she knew just how horrible it could be. But Duncan had promised to watch out for him and she knew that Maric would never let any real harm come to their son. And those two men were perhaps the only two people she truly trusted in the world. At least they were the only ones left alive. Or they were alive when she had been taken.

But the door opened and she was greeted by... Maric. Except he was not Maric, she knew that. After the initial shock, her eyes growing wide, she registered the differences. There was some of her in him, mostly overpowered by her beloved idiot's looks. For a moment all she could do was look up at him. He was so big, so human looking. It was hard to believe this was the tiny little baby with round ears that would cry until she picked him up or Duncan made faces at him.

"You're Alistair." she breathed finally, holding onto her staff tighter for some sort of grounding. "I'm. I'm Fiona."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-03-28 12:30 pm UTC (link)
She was...so tiny. Alistair had never quite had the chance of getting beyond the little boy idea of his parents as ten foot tall giants able to overcome anything and everything put in their path. Maric had certainly had a big enough legend built up around him that the idea had never felt the need to pass, and what he'd known of his mother had been so scarce that he'd invented an idea in his head. To finally see the reality and to have it be so...petite was oddly more groundshaking than anything else that he had come across here.

There was a sudden shyness that overcame him, stronger than any that he'd ever suffered before, that left him silently smiling, a heavy blush slowly infusing his cheeks and ears until he was near beet red all over. He searched for words, proper ones that didn't sound trait or ridiculous or just downright stupid, but he came up empty. At least he had the sense of mind not to flap his lips like a gapping fish while his mind strained for the right thing to say in vain. But the more he tried, the more embarrassed he became. He wished he could be eloquent, charming, something to be proud of, but at best, he was managing adorably awkward.

"Hi," Alistair managed with a squeak, a sharp break in his voice, and his face going nearly purple. "And if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to go curl up and die from embarrassment now."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-03-28 05:21 pm UTC (link)
Being stared at was not exactly something Fiona enjoyed. In fact it was probably one of the things that she detested most. But even though it made her skin crawl a bit she felt that it likely was warranted for him. If Maric agreed to her terms, which she knew he would and it seemed that he did, Alistair had no idea who or what she was, just that she had been some human serving girl. It was safer for him that way, easier.

But there was that odd sort of clueless smile and Maker he just looked so much like Maric it was frightening. Though she did feel that Maric blushed less, but she had only met him after he had been king for several years. Who knew what he had been like when he was still an upstart of a boy. Not that she could really talk, she was barely older than her son.

A bemused smile stole onto her when he squeaked. Shaking her head, she leaned on her staff slightly. "I think that might defeat the entire purpose, if you off and died."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-03-29 05:55 pm UTC (link)
There was something in those words, a certain glibness to the tone, that helped break the tension that had been building inside Alistair. He laughed, the blush slowly starting to lessen as he raised a hand to run through his hair and then rub at the back of his neck, "Yeah. Probably," He said. It took him a moment to realize that continuing to stand in the door was rather awkward, the realization crossing his face as he took a swift step backwards and gestured for her to enter. "Come in. Make yourself at home. It... It all is a bit odd until you get used to it. Oh, and don't mind the cat," He said, offering his mother, Fiona, sheepish smile.

As odd as this was for him, the sight of her, the sudden realization that here, like this, she couldn't have been that much older than he was right now, pushed Alistair to consider just how odd that this must have been for her to see him like this. Most parents had the benefit of watching their children grow up, or at least, of aging themselves while their offspring did so outside of their line of sight. This was an entirely different situation all together.

Moving into the living room himself, Alistair allowed himself a bit more time to study her. There had been a few things that Alistair had been able to glean from their network conversation. She was an elf, a matter which he had already suspected from his conversation with the demon and something which was entirely obvious now that he was seeing her, and secondly, she was a mage, something which was reinforced by the face that she was carrying a staff rather than any other sort of weapon. With what he'd heard from Wynne and what little he knew of the attitudes of the population and the injustices that came with having to play politics (the idea of which he dreaded more and more each day) would have complicated his existence so much more than just being the bastard son of the king had already. There was a certain irony, he thought, in the fact that he'd ended up at the Chantry eventually anyway, but he wasn't going to dwell on it too much.

"So. Um," Alistair stammered a bit before moving to sit down and smiling at her. "I'm... Not very good at anything like this. Talking...and stuff."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-03-29 06:21 pm UTC (link)
There was a second where Fiona just hung back, looking into the apartment as Alistair motioned for her to come in. It was all just so much to take in. Out of all the wonderful and terrible things she had seen magic do, this sort of situation was one she never imagined possible outside an illusion in the fade. She almost wondered if perhaps this was the fade and that a demon was tempting her with her son, grown up into a man just like his father, but as much as she willed it the reality stayed. This was no illusion.

Snapping out of it though, she took the few steps inside, looking around as she held onto her staff like a lifeline. "A bit odd is being generous, really." she mused slightly as she gave a quick glance around for the cat.

He was watching her again and Fiona forced herself to tolerate it. All of this was a lot for both of them to take in. As jumpy as it made her she would keep from snapping at him to stop. This was her son, not some noble or human idiot. It was eerie how much of Maric was there, which just made the urge to snap at him all the more powerful. As much as she cared for Maric, which was more than she would likely ever admit, he was a supremely irritating person at times. Which really was what made him all the more charming.

Fiona smiled weakly, looking down at the ground for a moment to gather her thoughts. "I'm not terribly good at it either." she replied, looking back up at him. "Your father. He is... was good at talking. Better than me anyway."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-03-29 07:28 pm UTC (link)
There were very few memories of Maric that Alistair had and most of them were faded and tinged by both their age and his at the time that they'd been acquired. There was a certain warmth to them that he couldn't deny, a vague memory of a kind man who had been tinged with a certain sort of sadness that a boy at the age Alistair had been couldn't have hoped to comprehend. "Arl Eamon said he'd always had a way with words even when he didn't mean to," Alistair said, a fond smile on his face, a smile that probably well reflected the fact that most of his knowledge about the man who'd sired him was far removed from his own existence. "And that it never hurt he rarely ever said anything without meaning it."

Alistair pulled his gaze away from his contemplation of the woman in front of him, realizing perhaps little too late that gawking like a moron was both rude and probably a little unsettling. Instead, he moved his gaze to any of the chairs in the room. It felt a little off, sitting while she still stood, and it wasn't as though there weren't plenty of places to do so.

"You... You don't have to keep standing like that," Alistair said, a slight stammer in his voice. "I mean, not unless you want to. Do you want to? I could stand back up if that's better?"

Setting his hand down on the arm of the couch to push himself back to his feet, Alistair suddenly felt the tell-tale rush of emotion and magic jumbled together that he'd thought he'd managed to get a hold on the last few days, and before he could do anything to stop it, the entire side of the couch was engulfed in ice.

Standing once more, Alistair stumbled back away from the couch, staring at his handiwork wide-eyed, before hanging his head, "So much for making a decent first impression."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-03-29 07:40 pm UTC (link)
"He's a complete idiot." Fiona laughed slightly, shaking her head as she smiled fondly. Maric was someone who was completely unique in her life. He was a man who seemed to be everything nobility was supposed to mean but never seemed to. The King was more than her friend and the only person she trusted outside of Duncan to make sure that Alistair would get the life she felt he deserved, a life that was far away from her. Because that baby, this man, he deserved everything that she would never be able to give him. "He's the best man I know. Though Duncan can sometimes be a close second."

Before she could respond on the issue of sitting all of a sudden the couch was coated with ice. Her eyes grew wide for a moment and that acidic taste of fear welled up in her throat before she remembered that he had told her that magic for him was not normal. Yes, he had been trained as a templar. He was no mage this was all some sort of mess. Taking a breath she waved a hand at him gently. "It's fine." she chuckled, smiling a bit more fondly.

Reaching out, she concentrated, the ice disappearing as she willed it to. The couch would likely be a bit damp, yes, but that was the price to be paid for being frozen. As strange as it was she could nearly see this being exactly how Maric would react to suddenly having magic. "I've had far worse first impressions. This is probably one of the better ones, actually."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-03-29 08:39 pm UTC (link)
That... That was not an opinion that Alistair had expected to hear about his father. Everyone always seemed to heap on praise, talk about the legendary savior of Ferelden, the glorious King who had pulled them out of ruin, the person who had lead this nation and rebuild it back into what it had once been before. The closest he'd gotten to anything that even resembled a bad opinion was once when Duncan had told Alistair that he reminded him far more of Maric than one would expect from someone who hadn't been raised by him. Alistair's response had been a confused one, unsure of whether that spoke well of him or badly of his father. It had been one of the few times that Alistair could remember Duncan laughing with a certain wild abandon that he hadn't been sure the man would ever stop.

Her mention of Duncan provoked both sadness and curiosity in him. He had always wondered Duncan had chosen him, out of all of the Templars that had competed, of all the options that he had laid before him. Alistair had hardly been the strongest or the bravest or the most skilled. In fact, the few victories that he had had he had chalked up to dumb luck and timing, not his actual abilities. But still, he had been the one taken, and while he had never stopped being grateful for it, it seemed he had his reason for why now.

"I would certainly hate to see what it would take to make a bad first impression if this is one of the better ones," Alistair said, smiling sheepishly. "I don't really remember him that well. Maric, not Duncan. I remember Duncan just fine. He... He was probably more of a father to me than anyone else I'd ever known."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-03-30 03:34 am UTC (link)
With another bout of concentration Fiona had dried part of the couch, taking a seat on it. There was no reason to get her robes wet unless she needed to. And from what she had seen of this place there was no reason to conserve her energy like she would at the risk of bandits or worse rearing their head. There also was the lack of an infant to take care of, to watch and protect. For a moment her chest ached at the memory but she simply pushed it aside. Her baby was here, after all. Still that was hard to tell her body, which was still reeling in hormones.

"Hopefully you'll never have to see that." Fiona shrugged slightly, little flickers of bad memories tugging at the edge of her thoughts. She did not talk about those times with the people she knew and she certainly was not going to tell them to her son. He deserved a better picture.

"That doesn't surprise me." Fiona sighed softly. It was a sad sort of sigh. There was so much her son wouldn't have, didn't have, but it had been the only plan she could figure out. She did not want a life where people constantly felt he threatened Cailan and Maric or a life where he was hated because of who she was. No whatever his life had been, it must have been for the best. "Duncan's practically is. Outside of the literal part. He was the first person I told about you. When I left... he was traveling with us. You and me."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-03-31 03:21 am UTC (link)
Luckily, the other side of the couch had come away mostly unscathed so Alistair could sit down next to her without worrying about getting himself wet and coming away looking even more hapless than he already did. Now that they had reached a familiar ground, the situation seemed a little less precarious. There was something in her first statement that spoke of there being far more to it than was available at first glance, but there was also enough there that Alistair knew not to press the issue.

Instead, he turned his mind to thoughts of Duncan, thoughts that he had tried not to dwell on while he was here because this place had given him a brief reprieve from all of it, but right now, the thoughts weren't prompting the commingled sadness and rage that they would have back in their world. Here, it was just a nostalgic melancholy.

"He gave me my life back," Alistair said with a slight smile. "I mean, I had a life before, but it wasn't really mine. It was lived under the dictate of the Chantry. Even if I was really bad at following their orders," He said, wrinkling his nose. "Probably spent more time being chastised by the Revered Mother than I did doing what they expected of me. But, I don't know, it was different with the Wardens," He said, smiling over at her. "It felt like my efforts were actually appreciated for once. Like my existence was finally something more than an... inconvenience," He said, the last word coming out with a slight tinge of bitterness that was barely noticeable.

"What were they like... Maric & Duncan. I mean, when you knew them?"

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-03-31 05:09 am UTC (link)
Fiona watched her son carefully. This was all just so much, so new. She had barely come to terms with the fact that she was a mother to begin with, let alone everything else. And now here he was after all of it, all of her and Maric's decisions come to fruition. She could already feel some of that warmth, the same warmth and awkward kindness that had drawn her finally to Maric. The smile was the same, it was memorizing. In fact so far she had not seen any of herself in him, which was what she had wanted for him, wasn't it? Except for maybe the Wardens.

"The Wardens were the first place I ever really felt like a person." She smiled back before it faltered as that bitterness started to seep out. It was just a little and she knew that it was perfectly valid. Her hand started to reach for his instinctively. Once she noticed, she hesitated, her hand simply raised in the air as she tried to break through that block in her head. This was her son, this was allowed. Pushing through her hesitation, she finally grabbed his hand in hers, squeezing it slightly. "Alistair it isn't. It wasn't. You were never an inconvenience."

Letting go of his hand, hers felt back into her lap and another smile stole onto her face, a weaker one but a smile all the same. "What would you like to know?"

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-03-31 07:28 am UTC (link)
The touch was surprising, grounding, and coupled with the words, lifted a weight off of his chest that had made an attempt to settle there. Alistair wasn't entirely unhappy with his lot in life. He'd made it to a place where he mattered, where it felt like he could make a difference as well as just be himself even if it had taken several odd turns to get there. But to finally hear someone to say that he was more than just a mistake of hormones, to hear it from the person who truly mattered in the whole affair, meant from more to him than he had ever even imagined it would.

"I know. I mean, I think I always understood that he would have taken me in himself if there wasn't the politics of it to think about," Alistair said. "But it was always hard, when I was younger, not to feel as though I was just the unnecessary extra," He said with a quiet, sad laugh. "Not so unnecessary now, though."

If he'd had the option, he would have kept hold of her hand, but Alistair didn't protest as she pulled away, his mind reeling as he tried to come up with some specifics, "I... I really don't know," He said. It wasn't a question he ever thought he'd be able to ask someone who wasn't just going to heap on praise. "How did you meet them?"

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-01 10:09 pm UTC (link)
This was the difficult part. While the conversation had yet to play out in her life Fiona did know Maric, and she knew that he likely had sided with her. After all it was not as if Alistair had grown up at court. Maric was a good man which was why she knew he would agree to it. They both knew what it meant to put aside their own wants for the betterment of those they cared about. But while Fiona hid things, she did always strive to be honest and her son deserved honesty.

"I didn't want you to be raised within the court. I wanted you to have a normal life, the kind of life I couldn't give you. Neither of us could, really. Not the life you deserved." Fiona sighed softly, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. Because her son deserved everything that she had no way to give him.

Had she known Fiona would have gladly put aside her own feelings and held his hand. But it was all too much at the moment, so much to process and her body kept telling her that she needed to just bring him to her chest and hold him tight even though he wasn't an infant anymore. But when he asked his question she let herself focus on that. "I was the junior member during Duncan's joining. After that we became good friends. We were the youngest of the group that followed the Commander to meet your father." she explained, a fond memory forming in her mind and she smiled a bit wistfully as she laughed gently. "Your father I met when he agreed to guide us through the Deep Roads on a mission. I... honestly hated him from the moment I saw him." She laughed again, shaking her head. "That changed, obviously."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-02 02:07 am UTC (link)
"I probably would have, the way things were initially set down," Alistair said, smiling over at Fiona. Eamon had been good to him, as best as he could be, when he was younger. It wasn't until the Arlessa had determined that he was a threat to her own children that things had become difficult at Redcliffe, til the home that he had lived in his whole life became highly inhospitable and his welcome was slowly eroded. "But the piece fell together differently. I don't think I would have chosen a different path than the one I ended up on, though," He said with a hint of amusement. "Even if I wouldn't have minded ending up on it a bit earlier than I did."

He understood what that meant, to be the junior member at someone else's Joining. He was certain that even if all the other Grey Wardens hadn't died at Ostagar that he and Neria probably still would have ended up just as close as they did. As the youngest, you bonded together over the unease that came with all of the new experiences, the elder offering reassurances that such things were normal and that no, you weren't going crazy. It was very nearly as strong as the bond that one shared with their recruiter.

The statement that she hated him the moment she saw his father, however, left Alistair with a momentary confusion, blinking at her before something dawned on him, "Cocksure blond arrogance?" It seemed the most obvious reason that someone would loathe him. It was the one thing that Alistair could recall in Cailan's demeanor that might rub people the wrong way.

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-02 02:50 am UTC (link)
"I don't think anyone would mind the place that makes them happy coming sooner." Fiona agreed, thinking of her own recruitment. They were more alike that he would know in that but for such incredibly different reasons, which she was thankful for. While the Chantry was not her favorite place, without magic he would be safe there. They would care for and raise him, teach him possibly better than he would have just as a commoner. "I've heard people say the Maker has a plan but I've never been sure if I believed that."

Duncan's joining had been the first time Fiona had ever been in a real position of authority, outside of when she had passed her harrowing. It had been such a daunting experience, foreign and yet it felt so rightly deserved. There had been Duncan and another boy, Riordin if she remembered correctly. But it had been Duncan she bonded with. That had all been because of Genevieve. But then her son seemed to have a blight on his hands.

At Alistair's assumption she could not help but laugh again. "I thought so at least. I convinced myself he was. But he isn't, wasn't. But he infuriated me like few people could at first. Just the sight of him made my blood boil." It seemed like so long ago. Certainly it had been a year or a little more but it seemed like so much further than that. But that was all because Maric somehow found a way into her mind, like he belonged there.

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-02 04:15 am UTC (link)
"I think he does what he can to correct the actions of man," Alistair said quietly, that very debate having been waged in his own mind since the fall of Ostagar. The idea that Loghain's treachery could have been at all divinely sanctioned turned his stomach. No, that had been the action of a man tainted by something that no divine entity could ever fathom, but their rescue from the top of the tower was not something that Alistair could simply attribute to good timing on the part of Morrigan's mother. There had to be far more to it than that. "To set things on their proper course, but the smaller details are up to us," He said, smiling as he shook his head slowly. "But it's all hard to come to grips with, that anyone could be watching us at all, when the world works the way that it does. When there are so many willing to bend the world to their advantage, damned be anyone else."

And that even during a Blight, everyone could be so concerned about their own agendas that it took so much tap dancing around issues and appeasing of various forces to even get even a hint of help. Not that Alistair had been adverse to setting things right in places where they were so horribly wrong, but it seemed sad that no one seemed willing to actively unite to defeat something that threatened them all.

"Did he do something?" Alistair asked, still a little lost at the idea that someone could so enrage another person just by their very presence. "I mean, I know I have a tendency to say the wrong thing? That... annoys people sometimes. Was it something like that?"

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-02 04:37 am UTC (link)
"It's a nice thought, if nothing else." Fiona supposed that having been raised in the chantry would have led Alistair into believing in a force like the Maker. If he did exist then Fiona truly believed that he had abandoned them like it was said. Only a cruel and uncaring creator would let such things happen. Though at the same time she understood all too well having to abandon what you loved the most. "There are some good people too, tough sadly they're few and far between."

Politics had never been something that Fiona was good at. She knew what she felt was right and she went with it. Life had been enough of a struggle as it was to get where she was. While she might never make it to Commander of the Grey, that was fine with her. Tracking down the Architect and preventing his plan was more important.

"No it wasn't anything like that." Fiona sighed, thinking back on when she had first met Maric. It was funny now to her, really. "I've a natural distrust of nobles. I assumed that he would be just like all the rest of them. But instead... instead he was just Maric. It's very hard to describe, I'm not sure I even understand it myself."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-02 07:47 am UTC (link)
It wasn't being raised in the Chantry that had necessarily prompted Alistair's belief. If anything, being raised in the Chantry had made Alistair far more likely to give the benefit of the doubt to anyone that had anything to say against it. It was simply the word of Andraste that prompted Alistair's belief, a word that he felt was so sorely misused by many people for many reasons, twisted to suit their own desires, their own needs, or flagrantly ignored all together. It was the fallibility of man, not the absence of the Maker, that made life so difficult for so many. "Most have the capacity for it," He said with a sigh. "Just... so few people attempt to exercise it, and of those that do, even fewer get the chance to make it count."

And if he truly did have to be king, Alistair wanted to be sure that he made it count, that he at least did something to help people who couldn't help themselves, after they managed to repair whatever damage the Blight had left in its wake. There would be a lot of rebuilding Ferelden would have to do, both physical and of trusts. He didn't know how many nobles had sided with Loghain, but he knew there would be plenty of added complications from those who had.

"I think I know what you mean, though," Alistair said with a smile. What she was saying made sense to someone who had always tried to avoid being seen by others as the bastard prince as it had altered people's viewpoints quite rapidly when they discovered his heritage. People always had preset expectations when it came to labels that one couldn't change, expectations that were often shaped by previous experiences. And Alistair honestly didn't want to think too hard on the sort of experiences that she might have had to shape such an opinion. Righteous indignation over events that had happened long before he had even been so much as a possibility would only leave him even more angry at the structure of their world.

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-03 03:19 am UTC (link)
"I like to think the wardens try to make that chance." The Order was everything to her, it gave her purpose and meaning. But even the Order could do wrong and she had learned that harsh lesson better than most. "They're not infallible but their cause is just. Your father was one of the few people that did his best to exercise it. I know I've only just met you but you remind me a lot of him already."

She had no idea what that would mean to him to hear. It was true and she meant it but at the same time Maric was an absent force in Alistair's life, much like she was. Being like him meant little if anything at all. Still she felt the need to say it, to let him know. Right now that was what she was to him, wasn't she? Not so much a mother but instead a connection, someone who could give him answers.

"He saved my life." Fiona admitted, pushing back that horrible memory. "A demon nearly. Maric had the chance to simply escape or to drift into his perfect dream. But instead he insisted that I was saved." She laughed a bit, shaking her head. It felt so odd to laugh about that terrible time in the thaig. "It was a fool thing to do really. But that's when I knew he wasn't just some posturing, cruel noble. Maric is something else entirely."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-04 01:23 am UTC (link)
Alistair smiled shyly at her last comment, nodding in agreement to everything else, "We do what we can, how we can," Alistair said with a sigh. "Even if people are attempting to stop us at every turn," He said with a thoughtful look. "I think... I think what I appreciated the most about the Grey Wardens was that we weren't just working for the nobles or the dwarves or the dalish or the mages or any other single group. We were acting for everyone equally, striving to protect them all the same. That happens so rarely. It's nice for it to be present in something. Even if it's just a willingness to save everyone's life," Alistair said, looking over at his mother with a heavy thoughtfulness in his eyes. "I try to do what I can. It's not nearly enough, but I try."

But he'd never be Maric. He wouldn't even be Cailan whose memory he had every intention of salvaging from whatever tinge Loghain had laid upon it through his lies. He didn't know how to be a king, how to run a country, deal with politics, or anything like that. With his luck, he'd be ousted by a coup d'etat within the first year, and with the way that Ferelden politics were shaping up in his mind's eye, it seemed the most likely scenario.

"If there was a chance, it was the only thing that could have been done," Alistair said, looking vaguely confused at the idea that saving her was a fool thing to do. "I know if Neria ended up in that sort of situation, and I could... I could help her rather than... leaving her to her fate, I'd do it, whatever it took, even if it meant we both died if I failed."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-05 03:20 am UTC (link)
"Keep that belief with you." Fiona blurted out with complete earnestness. The entire mess with the Architect, he could have destroyed everything. Being a Warden was not about just stopping the blights, it was about defending people. Whatever that monster's plans would end up being that was certainly not what he wanted. But some of her fellow wardens had lost sight of that. Thankfully they had won that battle, for now. "It's easy to get caught up in the fight against the dark spawn, but we're wardens because the world needs defenders. Even if the world is nothing but cruel to us, it needs us."

Maric was so much of a story to so many people, likely to Alistair too. He was a man, just like anyone else, but a great man in ways that the stories never let people know. Certainly he had saved Ferelden from Orlais but he was more than that. And maybe she had her own rosy picture of him in her mind given their relationship, whatever it was. But that still did not mean he wasn't just that wonderful.

Smiling, she reached out again, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. "That's what I mean. That's not what most people would do. But it's what your father would do. And if it's what you'd do too, then you're as good a man as he is."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-05 03:57 am UTC (link)
Alistair smiled shyly, squeezing her hand back as he shook his head slowly, "I'll never be as good a man as he was," He said. "And I certainly won't be able to be as good of a king, but I think if I just try to do things as well as I can and stick to what I believe is right, I might...actually manage it without screwing things up too terribly," He said with a sigh. "At the very least, I won't be able to do any worse than Loghain was: dividing the kingdom against itself, working with murderous traitors, paying a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon..." Alistair trailed off, swallowing hard against the bile that was threatening to rise. "And probably doing a hell of a lot of stuff that I hadn't even managed to find out," He half mumbled before shaking his head with a sigh. "Bad thoughts. Never mind about that," He said with a shaky smile.

"What about yourself?" Alistair asked with a soft curiosity in his expression. "I mean, I've heard various things about my father all my life, but... I know nothing about you at all."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-05 04:10 am UTC (link)
"Maric is more lucky than a good king." Fiona teased lightly, giving him a bit of a wry smile. "He's actually rather hopeless in my opinion." But then he started to go on about Loghain. While he harbored no particular feelings towards the Hero of the River Dane, Maric did. And really Loghain was running the country nearly as much as Maric, if not more so. But the man did not trust her, she knew that much. She could only imagine how high his opinion of her would soar once she arrived with Alistair. She squeezed Alistair's hand tightly again. "He apparently becomes a very different man with age."

There was so much that she did not want to tell him. Her grip on his hand lessened some but for now she kept holding on. He had yet to flinch away and for some reason she felt the need to touch him. To be fair her true urge was to cradle him close, like she had been hours earlier with him so small and staring up at her with those baby eyes. But this would have to do. "Well... what do you want to know about me?"

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-05 04:54 am UTC (link)
"He must have," Alistair said, his mind not having been able to think of any reason that Maric could have possibly found to be friends with the man. He had a coldness to him that had troubled Alistair at Ostagar, his utter hatred of Orlesians and his insistence that they could hold the line without them worrying him even more, but Alistair was sure that if he'd followed the plan proper, they could have at least broken the darkspawn's lines and pushed them back into the Wilds long enough to recover the army. Better thoughts, happy thoughts. Smiling a hint at her previous comment, Alistair had to chuckle, "Hopeless, you say? Maybe Duncan was right, then. Perhaps I really am more like him than anyone would expect."

"Anything," Alistair said with a breathless enthusiasm. "Anything that you want to tell me, have to tell me. Anything is better than knowing nothing."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-05 05:02 am UTC (link)
"Maric survives on luck more than good sense." Maric was a safer topic t seemed, Loghain hitting a button deep within her son that seemed like the anger that she sometimes felt, though perhaps not that dire. There was that flash in his eyes, as if he was prepared to kill if faced with the option. Which was good. Sometimes men needed to die, that was something every king needed to understand.

Fiona had never been good at talking about herself. The past was so painful, most of it was best left to the winds of memory without burdening it on everyone else. "There's not really all that much of interest about me, really. I've been with the Wardens about two years now. It's been the happiest time in my life. Before that I was at the Circle in Orlais. I, well, I begged to be recruited. Duncan's my closest friend, though our assignments with the wardens are separating us after I." She paused and looked at him, how earnest and desperate he was for anything that involved her. It was so painful to see, a splinter right through her heart. "He was accompanying me to bring you to Ferelden, to your father."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-05 06:34 am UTC (link)
There was something both reassuring and amusing about that idea, that while there was this great legend to live up to, the reality was far closer to a real man than an indomitable figure of history. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard as he thought it would be or nearly as impossible to serve as a good example for the country. At least, his hope was renewed in the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could actually do this.

"Everyone thinks that," Alistair with a smile, "that there isn't anything about themselves worth telling. It's never true. We've all got stories to tell," He said, a soft smile gracing his features as he listened to what his mother had to tell him, taking it all in and committing it to deep memory. It took him only a moment to decide that it wasn't worth commenting that focusing only on two years wouldn't tell him much. She likely had a good reason for keeping to that. "Can I ask what you were doing after that?" Alistair asked quietly with a hint of hesitation.

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-05 06:46 am UTC (link)
"We all have stories, but some are better than others." She cautioned gently. He was just so desperate for something, anything from her. Whatever the image was that he had built of his mother Fiona could not help but think she was a disappointment. Someone like her was not meant to be a mother. While she loved him, so much that it made her cry sometimes, there was no way she could have given him any sort of life.

Fiona hesitated for a moment as she watched him. "Well... you are a warden, so I suppose it's all right." she eventually settled on. "I was assigned a mission. I'm not sure when it will end. But I'm leading a task force after a darkspawn phenomena. More than that I'm not sure I can really tell you. But it was either me or Duncan and they placed Duncan as second in command in Ferelden. I. I believe your father requested us both but the Order only gave him Duncan."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-05 07:10 am UTC (link)
"Perhaps," Alistair responded with a soft smile. "And we all have things that we wish to keep to ourselves, and there's nothing wrong with that. We just shouldn't devalue our experiences in the way that we all so often do," He said, squeezing her hand lightly again as he nodded in understanding to what she was telling him. The Grey Wardens had their tasks, and they all had their own assignments, managed by those in charge. Alistair was sure that once the Blight was over, they would all go their separate ways and the Grey Wardens would once again be populated mostly by Orlesians with the majority of the Ferelden Grey Wardens dead or...otherwise engaged as he would be. At the very least, there would be new recruits, new Ferelden recruits, that would hold up the tradition that Duncan had built up and lead for so long.

"The Order has their reasons, I'm sure," Alistair said. "Whatever the situation is, if they're devoting attentions to it, it has to be important." It was easy to tell that Alistair trusted the Order implicitly.

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-05 07:22 am UTC (link)
There was a spookiness to him almost. Shaking her head, she couldn't help but hear Maric saying that to her instead of Alistair. It was a strange cross in her mind and perhaps she was going a bit mad. This place would be easily explained away by her going mad, after all. "The chantry did a good job with you. The Arl as well." she admitted, only a little regret seeping into her tone.

"Oh they are very specific reasons. I'm tracking down a threat to all of Thedas. I've no idea if I've been successful by the time the blight arrives, but this mission is more important than my life." Fiona admitted, a stern resolution in her voice. The Architect could not simply be allowed to experiment on wardens, biding his time till he attempted to taint the surface again. For all she knew he was directly related to the blight her son was fighting.

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-05 07:41 am UTC (link)
"I had a good base for them to work with," Alistair with a slight smile. "Besides, the Chantry basically did its best in showing me what not. to do. Here's everything that we do and believe, you probably might want to do the opposite in order to avoid being painfully judgmental and hypocritical. You know, that sort of thing," He said with a nervous laugh.

The idea that something that wasn't a Blight could ever be that dire sobered Alistair's thoughts, however, as he looked over at her, a heavy worry seeping into himself. "Then, I hope you did succeed," He said gently. "Thedas has been lucky this time, that we managed to put together an army quickly enough to vanquish the Blight that it didn't have long enough to taint all of the land, that I would hate to see something else simply swallow everything up not long after that."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-06 05:55 am UTC (link)
"I think maybe you might be smarter than your father, at least." she teased lightly. Maric was brilliant in his own way, even if she was not sure he would ever be able to articulate himself like that. The Chantry was not exactly something that came up in conversation often. Still it took someone with a mind of some sort to be able to think on their own in a world like that.

Shaking her head, she squeezed his hand again almost instinctively. "That's where I'm off to, I guess. While you were growing up. I'd say that I'm sorry but." her voice faltered and she pulled her hand away more out of guilt than actually wanting to. "From what you've said of your past, your father listened to what I asked of him."

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[info]royal_bastard
2011-04-06 09:00 pm UTC (link)
Well, that was certainly a first, someone suggesting that he might actually be smarter than someone else. Intelligence was not something that Alistair was often (if ever) praised for. It wasn't that he was dumb. Quite the opposite, actually, but the observations that his mind had lead him to make over the years had never been looked upon kindly by most of the people that had surrounded him. He'd differed and to differ in a world of rigid dogma and strict principle had never been a proven recipe for success.

Even if he was going to be made king despite it.

When she pulled away this time, though, Alistair didn't allow it, reaching back over and taking her hand as a reassurance to both of them, to her that he wasn't upset and to himself that she wasn't simply going to vanish the next time he blinked too long. "You both did what you had to," Alistair said gently. He understood. There were still pains, small hurts from his childhood that probably would never fade, but he understand why he'd been told what he had, why things had been done the way that they had been. He could only imagine the reaction of the nobles if any of them found out the truth, that their future king was not only half Orlesian...but half elven and of mage blood. There was a certain...delightful irony to it, though, that he couldn't help but be amused at. "For everyone's sake, including my own."

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[info]thefirstwarden
2011-04-06 09:24 pm UTC (link)
Fiona's eyes darted up to his face when he took her hand back. This was ridiculous, he was her son. From all she knew about how families were supposed to work, she was supposed to be comforting him, not the other way around. So she decided to attempt to be a mother, whatever that meant. Her free hand came up and covered his, both of her hands holding onto his gently as she turned to face him between. She had no idea what to say, so instead she studied his face for a moment, curiously. Yes he took strongly after his father but there were differences there. At least differences from the memory she had of Maric. He had grown into a strong man without either of them. Fiona supposed that she likely had Duncan to thank for that out of anyone she knew.

"You deserved more than I could possibly give you, Alistair." she finally stated plainly. That was her explanation. He seemed to understand but she felt the need to give it anyway. If she had been able to hear just something like this when she had been younger, and it was something she had forced upon him as well as far as she knew. But she could at least tell him now. "But you are loved. Even if it might not have felt like it at times. I'd do anything for you."

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