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The room was chaos the moment Alistair hesitated to claim the throne, and horror and anger settled in her stomach. These were the men and women in charge of Fereldan, screaming at each other over who should take the throne. In the Alienage, they elected their hahren and he administered to the communities; this was insanity.
Bann Alfstanna motioned for everyone to quiet down, and called out in a reconciling voice, “We need a king. The Warden won the dispute, so she can decide.”
Kallian felt a cold wave of terror wash over her. She’d had to name a king in Orzammar, and she still questioned her own wisdom is choosing Bhelen. Harrowmont’s face as the guards walked him away to await his execution haunted her nightmares. Harrowmont had seemed reasonable enough, but from the moment she walked into Dustown, she knew she couldn’t support a regime that would allow such wretched poverty to continue. Yet, she didn’t think the man had deserved summary execution, and Bhelen’s power-hungry ascent unsettled her. It hadn’t been her right to choose a king: Orzammar was not her home, and the dwarves not her people.
In part, she had allowed Alistair to fight as her champion against Loghain because she knew he hated the regent. She had been counting on Alistair to act on his own and take the decision out of her hands. That, a small voice told her, made her just like Bhelen. But she was tired of making decisions, tired of the uncertainty that weighed down on her. Now she regretted giving up the choice as it occurred to her that she also lost all control of the outcome.
The nobles’ expectant gaze shook her out of her reverie. “I-I need a minute.”
Alistair watched her with wide eyes. He licked his lips and his breath audibly caught when he realized she was studying his face. She knew he didn’t want to be king, and had told her so many times. Eamon had hammered it into him, underming his self-confidence and crushing the boy with guilt.
It was made very clear the throne was never in my future.
Teagan, the unthinkable has happened. Where’s Alistair?
Dear Maker, Eamon’s callous treatment of Alistair, like a spare that wasn’t quite as useful as the original but would do in a pinch, made her blood boil. As much as she didn’t want to put her friend on the throne to be used by that man again, she might not have a choice.
Anora’s eyes were all shriek and flame, but the look she gave Alistair was cold and calculating. The queen would always see him as a rival, because Eamon had insisted on presenting Alistair as a candidate for the throne. He might never be safe again if Anora remained ruler. Her chest tightened as she realized her mistake -- she had let Alistair kill Loghain. He couldn’t have known the consequences, and as the leader, she should have thought it through.
“Al … would you be ready to be king, if I chose you?” Fereldan needed a strong ruler, but all of Fereldan could go to hell before Kallian would sacrifice Alistair to Anora’s vengeance.
“No. Yes.” He looked terrified. “If I had to, I’d manage.”
Good enough.
“Anora, what makes you the better candidate?” She didn’t listen the queen’s answer. All she had to see was the blade coming down on Alistair’s neck, a fate written in the hatred on Anora’s face.
Kallian glanced around the room, and every man and woman in the room waited with bated breath for her decision. Everyone but Alistair. When their eyes locked, she knew he had guessed already. She hoped her eyes conveyed how sorry she was for this betrayal. Her voice was hoarse as she sacrificed her best friend to the wolves. “I choose Alistair.”
They started shouting again, and their voices blended together. Eamon wanted to execute Anora. Alistair begged Kallian for help silently.
She felt a quiet anger towards him just then, for what he had put her through this past year. He had put her in charge of stopping the Blight, told her he would follow her, told her he didn’t want to fight about it. After Duncan’s death, he had been grieving for his lost mentor, but she had been grieving, too. She had left her life in the Alienage behind. She left her father, Soris, Shianni and everything she’d ever expected for her future. Kallian loved Alistair fiercely and would do anything to spare him pain, but making every decision on her own, being responsible for the entire group alone, had worn her down.
Regrets aside, Alistair was king now. He needed to make this decision.
“You have to make a choice, Al,” she told him. He could yell at her later, and the gleam in his eye implied that would be very soon.
“Do we have to kill her? Can’t we just -- just lock her up for now. We’ll find somewhere to send her later.” Mercy, he’d chosen mercy. Displeasure was evident on Eamon’s face, and Kallian would have been proud, had she any energy left.
Anora was surprised. Her entire body stiffened, and Kallian could see the wheels in her head turning. “I -- thank you, Alistair. You show me mercy that I … would not have shown you.”
With that confirmation, Kallian knew it didn’t matter if this was the best choice. This was the only choice.
Kallian did not leave with everyone else. She had made a choice, and it was time to face the consequences. Alistair stood still as a statue as the nobles congratulated him on his new kingship. He waited until the last lord had left before he exploded, “How could you do that to me? You knew I didn’t want to be king!”
Because I won’t let you die. Because I’ve gotten this far without losing a friend, and I’ll be damned if I lose one now. Especially not to this. “Would you have perferred I let them crown Anora?”
He isn’t stupid; he saw the murderous intent in the queen’s eyes. He muttered, “No, she would have killed me, and that would have been bad.”
“I know I said I wouldn’t do this … ” Alistair was a brother to her, even if he wasn’t her blood. She would not lose him. “Alistair, I won’t let her hurt you. Nothing else factored into my decision. I’m sorry.”
She needed him to understand, but he only sighed. He sighs like an old man, she thought, alive long past his time . “It’s … it’s okay if you hate me for this. I understand. For what it’s worth, I really do think you’ll be a good king.”
It hadn’t taken much more than the look in his eyes in the Alienage, in Dustown and in the slums of Redcliffe to know that. He had compassion for the most vulnerable of his people. He had seen what their day-to-day life was like. And Kallian believed he understood their suffering, because he had suffered, even if he didn’t realize it.
He still didn’t say anything, and she decided to make her getaway before he could see her cry. As she passed him, he grabbed her by the shoulder. It wasn’t rough -- he held on to her like a young child might hold a doll. “Kallian, just promise me one thing.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll be there when I need you, right?” His voice was tinny.
Kallian felt like all the wind had been knocked out of her, and she wondered if knew what he was asking of her. Advisor to the king. Knowing Alistair, it would be every decision that fell on her. But she had made him king, and this was the consequence. Truly, it was not an unbearable price for her best friend’s life. “Of course, Al.”
The door slammed shut behind her, and she heard him sobbing. She couldn’t blame him -- his life had changed drastically. Tears slid down her own cheeks as she contemplated the future.