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Alistair still couldn't believe his friend was gone.
He still remembered when they first talked. Oh boy was he not particularly pleased to see that, yet another mage, was there to greet him after having dealt with the prior. At first, he looked upon him with exasperation - but then they spoke.
He talked about how he thought Duncan was a good man, how he grew up in the circle, he spoke of his dead mother, and his strangely neutral views on Templars. The male seemed to have an odd look upon things...
He remembered how close Mahonan had become so quickly.
They traveled to Redcliffe, taking an ungrateful Morrigan, and a silent Sten - to where the people suffered.He healed things there, he fought off the Darkspawn, went into the fade to save Connor, and brought back the ashes to save the Arl's life. It wasn't long after that Alistair had another discussion with Mahonan inside the camp. He gave him a necklace...
His mother's necklace.
Alistair was touched beyond belief, and Mahonan only proved to be more wise upon the matter...as well as understanding.
When they spoke of the Gray Wardens Mahonan asked if there were any elves. He was genuinely interested in every story Alistair had to tell, which was a switch for what Alistair was used to.
Oh, and Mohanan joked with him brightly about many matters. For one who grew up amongst Mages he sure had wit and charm. The male could talk someone with white gloves into eating raw Nug, intimidate Zevran into complacency, and scare witless a bunch of bandits stopping them on their way. He was cunning, and charming for someone who grew up the way he did...
They joked on Alistair's background too.
"Did I say that? I meant that dogs raised me. Giant, slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them, in fact."
"That would explain the smell."
And when the male took him to his sister, he'd been stern...but he'd also been a friend. He told him what he needed to hear when he needed to hear it...and that was something that only a true friend would do.
Alistair remembered their direct conversations fondly, especially those which ended in the both of them snapping back and forth at one another with witty come-backs, one right after the other.
"That depends, have you ever licked a lamp post in winter?"
"I've licked my share of lampposts and then some."
"That was a rather disturbing image you just put in my head..."
The worst part though, was the conversation that Alistair and his warden companion had before they left for Denerim.
"Alistair...you and I may not be the most normal pair of friends anyone has ever laid eyes upon, but we are friends. When the time comes, and you need help ruling...I'll be there to help you. To stand at your back just as I have in these travels."
"I'll hold you to that."
Alistair was going through the Warden's final possessions. No doubt Zevran would want most of it...he came across a peculiar item that made him curious.
The envelope was sealed and on it, "To Alistair, my Friend"
Hastily opening it, he pulled out the paper and began to read. Along with, a familiar necklace fell into Alistair's palm.
Dear Alistair,
I know the risks you and I are going into tomorrow, and I just wanted to leave you some final words in case I don't make it. You and I would probably be looked upon oddly by others...and not just because you are, practically, a former Templar and I'm a mage. If things don't end up going the way we expect tomorrow with the senior member of the Wardens...I just want you to know I am sorry. I will not be there with you to help you in your rule otherwise, and I would just seek to let you know that - even without my help - I believe in you. You will make a good king. In this letter is my favorite necklace, I've changed it...magically. Every time you look upon it now, you'll know that even if I can't be here - I'm still watching at the Maker's side...and I'm encouraging you every step of the way.
- M
He swallowed.
Sat down the letter.
Leaned over.
Tried not to break down.
Failed.
When the tears stopped coming, the paper was sogged and barely legible. Alistair collected himself with a clearing of his throat, and then pulled the letter into his pack. Picking up the small necklace mentioned, he turned it over. Mahonan's face was magically sealed into the back, and it winked at him in that cocky way he always did when he made a smart response. Alistair swallowed with a gritty grind, and turned away. He would remember his friend with fond memories, and Mahonan would be here with him in magical form. One day, he'd follow the same path.
For in life, there was vigilance.
And in death, there was sacrifice.
Someday, he would make a sacrifice - only to be rewarded with the sight of his best friend once more.
END