Well...have you ever had people decide you would be so very handsome if you only wore the type of clothes normal people wear? People who are the sort of person they like?
No, it's just what a lot of other people say. Especially the pecking hens on the Council. But James...he needs a little wife. In a shem house with a shem garden and shem children. He's not going to stop being a Templar. It's his calling. And...
[A puff, in and out.]
The dress just made me think of what everybody else says about me, I guess. He said he wasn't trying to dress me up, but it's not so very different. A costume for the role I'm meant to play. I just...saw that I wasn't the one who ought to play it.
Redcliffe hasn't been home since I was ten. And, [ as an afterthought ] technically I've been exiled. If I settled down in Ferelden now it would probably get less technical in a hurry, and I'm a little attached to my head. [ Attached? Get it? ] So no.
If I went back to my clan--not the Dalish, not elves--I would die. The last of me would be leeched out for them. I...never knew what it was to live, till I came here. Every bit of me that grew, from the time I could walk, was given away. Every bit. I can't keep doing that. There's a better way for me to serve than for me to keep dealing out my own flesh to keep them warm. That's the only way I know how to live with them, and they with me.
[ The self-sacrifice Alistair knows is one he's proud to make, perfectly happy to trade his body and eventually his mind for the sense of purpose and belonging—but this doesn't sound like that. It sounds more like the oppressive sense of responsibility that made the crown the absolute last thing he wanted. ]
Probably not. [ A pause, then certainty: ] No. I was never meant to be king. I wasn't raised for it or anything--I was just the Arl's stable boy. Maybe if Anora hadn't wanted the throne after all it would have been like that for her. Lucky for all of us that she did and Cousland liked her.
But it's sort of what I was scared of, I guess. I never could have been enough for them.
If the world made sense, Kings and Queens and Keepers and Emperors would all be volunteer roles, and each one would only volunteer a week at a time and then pass it on to the next volunteer, on a rotating schedule. Though I guess everyone would find a way to muck that up, too.
You'd've been a good king, till it all got to you.
We'd have been at war with Orlais within the week. Thank you, though. You'd be good for you clan, too, I'm sure, but it sounds like it already has gotten to you.
I was good for my clan. Starting around the time I was learning to walk, actually.
I was nine when the first real test came. The plague hit, most of the children my age lost their parents. The only adult who treated me like a child was my mother's cousin. She died then. I helped carry her body away. Learned to pretend the corpses were dolls. I did the same with a lot of people I loved. And...Merrick's father, when he killed himself. He was in pieces then. Hanged himself, and it decapitated him. Merrick and I were both watching. Some of the members of my clan will feel like I've abandoned my duties. My Keeper said I already fulfilled them. I really can't tell the difference.
[But that's rather gloomier than Alistair deserves to feel.]
It's not all like that. Just enough of it that you feel tired, and quickly. I'm glad you escaped.
[ He has seen A Lot Of Shit, and he has the sort of strong stomach that makes saying things like that just seems so excessive when darkspawn string up corpses seem like a good idea. But when he was nine, his only real concerns were still avoiding Lady Isolde and keeping the dogs from making off with his assortment of crudely-carved wooden soldiers while he slept. ]
[Well, now she feels like a jerk. She said a lot of things that were never about her, and made them sound like they were about her. She lets out a huff.]
Well, I'm a perfect arsehole. Don't tell Merrick what I told you about his father. Mythal'enaste, what's wrong with me.
Thank you. For listening. It's...strange, living among people who don't already know everything about me. I don't think I've spoken about most of that at all since it happened.
[ He knows of Merrick. The snarl-faced kid who follows Zevran around. But there's no risk of Alistair casually mentioning his father's gruesome death in conversation, is his point. ]
I'm always happy to listen, to anything, at any time.
[ That's an exaggeration, but not much of one. Having hope that the song isn't really the Calling and can be stopped isn't preventing it from getting louder. ]
Not many, I suppose, but not for lack of trying on my part. I've been working on my attentive listening face. But since you can't see my face, maybe that's the problem, hm.
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I couldn't say. No one's ever bought me a dress, for sure.
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Well...have you ever had people decide you would be so very handsome if you only wore the type of clothes normal people wear? People who are the sort of person they like?
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[ A pause. He's reconsidering the idea that no one here needs to be punched. ]
Is that what he said? That you would be pretty in the right clothes?
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[A puff, in and out.]
The dress just made me think of what everybody else says about me, I guess. He said he wasn't trying to dress me up, but it's not so very different. A costume for the role I'm meant to play. I just...saw that I wasn't the one who ought to play it.
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Does that mean you want to go back to your clan?
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All right. Then don't go back.
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Is...when the Landsmeet came, and it was you or Queen Anora, was it like this?
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But it's sort of what I was scared of, I guess. I never could have been enough for them.
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You'd've been a good king, till it all got to you.
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We'd have been at war with Orlais within the week. Thank you, though. You'd be good for you clan, too, I'm sure, but it sounds like it already has gotten to you.
tw: suicide, dismemberment
I was nine when the first real test came. The plague hit, most of the children my age lost their parents. The only adult who treated me like a child was my mother's cousin. She died then. I helped carry her body away. Learned to pretend the corpses were dolls. I did the same with a lot of people I loved. And...Merrick's father, when he killed himself. He was in pieces then. Hanged himself, and it decapitated him. Merrick and I were both watching. Some of the members of my clan will feel like I've abandoned my duties. My Keeper said I already fulfilled them. I really can't tell the difference.
[But that's rather gloomier than Alistair deserves to feel.]
It's not all like that. Just enough of it that you feel tired, and quickly. I'm glad you escaped.
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I'm sorry.
[ He has seen A Lot Of Shit, and he has the sort of strong stomach that makes saying things like that just seems so excessive when darkspawn string up corpses seem like a good idea. But when he was nine, his only real concerns were still avoiding Lady Isolde and keeping the dogs from making off with his assortment of crudely-carved wooden soldiers while he slept. ]
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[Well, now she feels like a jerk. She said a lot of things that were never about her, and made them sound like they were about her. She lets out a huff.]
Well, I'm a perfect arsehole. Don't tell Merrick what I told you about his father. Mythal'enaste, what's wrong with me.
Thank you. For listening. It's...strange, living among people who don't already know everything about me. I don't think I've spoken about most of that at all since it happened.
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[ He knows of Merrick. The snarl-faced kid who follows Zevran around. But there's no risk of Alistair casually mentioning his father's gruesome death in conversation, is his point. ]
I'm always happy to listen, to anything, at any time.
[ That's an exaggeration, but not much of one. Having hope that the song isn't really the Calling and can be stopped isn't preventing it from getting louder. ]
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