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He smiles
and I realise
I never want him to stop.
Lothering is small a
town I’ve never been to a
Town I never thought I’d want to go to it’s a
farming town.
The darkspawn are on our tail I can
feel it deep in my chest pulling me
back to them.
He is.
He is some sort of savior,
listens to the people and
runs around preforming their errands
giving them some sort of false security
“The darkspawn will not touch you here.”
I try to talk to a child and I don’t know how.
Not like him.
the child runs away to his mother .
He releases the Qunari and holds out his hand smiles
bright,
tells him “I’m Aleksander,”
and invites a murderer into his life with open arms,
when I ask him about it, he looks sad.
He says, “Aren’t we all murderers at this point?” and I
can’t deny it. My mouth tastes sour.
He spares the men threatening us in the tavern
and listens to that chantry girl’s false prophetising,
welcomes her and smiles at her
and I doubt.
He never does.
On the way out of Lothering there is a rose
standing bright in a bush that has all but wilted;
all but died.
Something beautiful in the midst of darkness;
clarity in chaos.
All I can think is Aleksander.
I cut it, and I press it into a book.
A month later when he hears that
Lothering has fallen to the Blight,
He hides away in his tent.
I think I could hear him
crying and I
thought about the rose.
Not yet.
On the way to redcliff something keeps me on edge keeps my
head cloudy
and my heart racing and
Aleksander touches his hand to my face I wonder
if now is the time
and I hesitate.
Make up an excuse he
nods but he looks concerned
Morrigan and the Qunari look at me funny.
All I can see is Aleksander.
“Look,” I say as we near the castle, stop him with a hand to his shoulder.
“I have something I need to tell you before we continue.”
His hand finds my cheek again and he smiles and
this is a mage, Alistair
this is a man, Alistair
this is the last surviving grey warden save for you, Alistair
this is the future, Alistair.
“Anything. You can tell me Anything.”
And I do.
It spills like black ink from my mouth.
Morrigan looks on in disbelief when I tell them I am Maric’s son,
I am the half brother of the previous King Cailin,
I am a bastard prince and
I am a grey warden
and Arl Eamon was the closest thing I had to a father
despite his crass words and
empty presence.
“I don’t want you to treat me different. Please. I’m still the same Alistair!”
Aleksander smiles
and there’s something soft in his eyes that makes me feel
something deep in my chest and it’s different then the darkspawn
and yet entirely the same.
I brush it off with a joke.
I am terrified.
A few days later he saves redcliff.
He met a man in the dungeons who made his eyes grow soft,
enveloped him in a hug that
lasted forever
I busied myself looking at my hands.
The man, Jowan,
ran away,
and Aleksander’s face fell
and I can’t figure out what it is I’m feeling
or maybe I don’t want to.
Back in camp, he gives my my mother’s necklace.
I ask him how he got it and he
said “Eamon,”
I told him the story behind it and he listened,
took my hand in his and leant his head onto my shoulder by the fire
I don’t know what we’re doing.
I like it.
The rose is still in that book, hidden tucked in my bedroll.
I wonder, and I decide against.
Not yet.
A man, an elf, an assassin,
tries to kill Aleksander.
And yet we win, tie him up and
Morrigan kicks his side ‘til he wakes up.
Aleksander spares him, asks him if he wants to join.
I feel.
I feel.
I feel small. I disagree and Aleksander's hand is on my arm,
I relent,
because he knows better than me. He’s better than me.
Surprisingly,
I don’t envy that.
Pain.
It
hurts and I
can’t really see
everything looks blurred
and bright and
I think I hear Aleksander’s voice I
say his name and his hands are brushing back my hair he has
such nice hands.
He has magic in his veins and he’s whispering
hushed things as he presses his palms flat against my chest
I think i might be bleeding but it
doesnt seem to matter all i want
is for Aleksander to stop sounding
so broken
my chest is numb and
his hands thrum with something
bright,
something whole something
utterly magic I
hate magic but i think
i might love him
“I love you too” he cries,
but it’s quiet
it’s soft
it’s him
and I wonder
and
everything
grows dark.
we recruit an enchanter at the circle of Magi.
her name is Wynne and she
has a sort of wisdom settled in her bones
that radiates safety,
radiates kindness
she is willing to sacrifice whatever she can to save others and I
wish that i was a little more like her.
We don’t kill any of the mages in the tower,
fight actively against the right of annulment,
it strikes me at some point that this tower
the confinement of mages
the packed together bunks and the
corridors lined with age-old stone
this.
this is where Aleksander grew up.
I fight a little harder to preserve this;
I fight a little harder to preserve him.
I fight a little harder.
Before the deep roads I
stop him
ask everyone to move on he looks
a little skeptic
a little concerned a
little worried
I pull the rose out,
still red, still
beautiful still
Aleksander .
He cries and
he always cries but
this is happy and open and I
fumble
i always fumble
he cups his hands around my jaw and pulls my head down until
our foreheads touch I
never realised how clear his eyes were
how green
“I saw it in Lothering and wondered how something so beautiful could be in the middle
of so much death and chaos.”
Aleksander watches my eyes, and i continue, scared
but not alone.
never alone.
“And it reminded me of you>”
and Aleksander kisses me.
It feels strangely like home,
like how the wardens before me described the Calling
a duty and an end to something before
something that pulls and pulls and pulls
as if it is your destiny.
This,
if anything,
is my destiny.