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9:30
Rosie,
I had hoped it would be years before I even had to think about writing this - even more so when I met you. But I suppose in meeting you, I also got someone to write one of these to. That was supposed to sound sweet, I promise.
If you are reading this, then my time came sooner than expected. As unlikely as that is, I think we both know that we can’t bank on life giving us an easy time of things. Yet, I find myself not thinking about that as much now.
As I write this, you’ve gotten up to bathe - and berated me for not joining you. This is the happiest I have been in my life, and it will be until the next happiest moment, which will most likely be when I sneak up on you at the lake and jump in the water to frighten you. Forgive yourself for whatever spell you flung at me; I deserved it. And I’ll be clean! We’ll both be happy.
Happy. I don’t think I really knew how that felt before I met you. There were moments… but there wasn’t this. A reason to hope, a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to fight - to live.
I love you, Rosie. I love you! Thank you for loving me. Whatever time we get together will make the rest worth it. And if I’ve left the world by the time you read this, I only hope that I left it safer for you.
I’ll save you a spot by the Maker’s side. Please, take your time.
All of my love,
Your Ali
9:33
Rosalind,
I may not be a Grey Warden any longer, but I am a Theirin, and apparently that is just as deadly. So, it feels no less ridiculous to write this to you now as any other member of the order would.
I love you. I never stopped, and I never will. You no doubt know that. I’ve never been very good at hiding it, and frankly, I don’t want to be. I keep precious little of myself these days - longing for you is a comfort, even when it hurts.
Life didn’t go the way we wanted it. I suppose it went the way it had to. But this is still so much better than anything else that came before, and that’s all because, no matter how hard it gets, I still have you by my side - and I have no intention is letting that change.
If this were a just world, you’d have a crown too. Or perhaps neither of us would have one, and the world could be trusted to others. We just had to be the heroes, didn’t we? What a pair we are.
If anything, it feels right to have met my end like all of the Wardens before us. I hope you won’t be offended that this is one adventure I don’t want you to join me on, not for now, at least. You have a life to live, and everything I do is to make sure you can live it. That is the honour of my life, not a throne or a name or any titles.
Always yours,
Alistair
9:41
Rosalind,
I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere between my duty to you and my duty to Ferelden, I feel that I betrayed both. These days, I serve another beast entirely - propriety. Stability. Blasted stability. Everything staying as it was. The world we wanted to build is more a dream now than it was all those years ago.
Maybe what I did at Redcliffe prevented another war, or maybe it started another. Maybe it didn’t change a thing, and maybe nothing we’ve done ever did.
Maker, I don’t really believe that. We did so much good and we worked so well together, it just seems that the world will never stop fighting us on that.
You hurt me when you left without a word. Leaving with a word would have hurt too, but after all we’ve been through, I had thought I was worth you the effort. But you are hurting yourself too, aren’t you? Last I heard from my scouts, you spend your time fighting and drinking and looking miserable. I thought that would make me happy. It didn’t. I hate how hard you are to define in my mind. No, I love it. Always have. Curse you.
There’s a good chance I’ll never see you again, but I know I will always love you. I’ll always be the man who fell hopelessly in love with the most infuriating woman to walk Thedas. I’ll stay that way just to prove to myself that somewhere, underneath all of this duty, I am still here.
Please, be kind yourself, Ros. And live.
9:43
Rosie,
I’ve written a few of these letters in the past, but rarely with a smile. I remember grinning like a fool over the first one, back when we felt indestructible. We are now very aware that we are not, and yet… I’m smiling all the same.
As I write this, I can hear you trying to wrangle our little monsters out of their cribs. I promise, I will join you soon, my darling. With any luck, by the time you read this, those three will have little monsters of their own, and you can tell them how terrible they were at this age.
But this letter is for you, my love, and the fact that I get to write this is a privilege. You are going to live. Finding out that the taint had left you was like letting out a breath that I’d been holding in since the Blight. I know we don’t understand it, and I know you’re determined to make sense of it and cure me too, but knowing that you will live, and that my children will have their mother, is all I need. The thought of you, Briana, Duncan, and Enya having each other is a comfort above all else.
When my end comes, I know it will be after a life well lived. Maker knows we made mistakes along the way, but they brought us here, so I wouldn’t change any of them. Well, perhaps a few.
Oh, but what is there to say? When I think of describing all of the ways I love you, I just want to rush into the next room and say it to your face. So, just remember that when I wrote this, I was too busy living to think about death. Know that I kept fighting until the very end to remain by your side and to care for our little family.
I love you, Rosie. Queen Rosalind Theirin. Rosalind Ethelia Theirin-Amell… I never tire of seeing those names together.
Be good to yourself. Live your life. Tell our beautiful monsters that their Dad loves them more than life itself. I’ll take down some blighters in the Deep Roads, and then see you soon.
Although, hopefully not too soon. I am holding you to that.
With my undying love,
Your Ali
A tear fell to the page before Rosalind could stop it, blurring the ink. No matter - she would remember these words forever.
“Damn you,” she laughed as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “You’ve always been better with words. It’s like a bloody competition with you.”
Alistair had a lop-sided grin, the smile giving way to more wrinkles and laughter lines. “I was even better than I remember. And these were the letters about dying! We’ll have to dig out the raunchier ones…”
She kicked his leg, gently, so as not to wake the pup on his lap. “Another night. I’d need to mentally prepare myself for that.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, Alistair petting Maeve, the latest furry addition to their family. Rosalind’s thumb ran over the final calling letter, lost in thought.
Earlier today, Enya had left home, taking a cart to the docks so she could find a ship to take her anywhere she pleased. Their youngest, their last to leave the home they’d made for themselves in Kirkwall, was unlikely to follow her sister’s steps back to Ferelden. Enya had hated the throne as much as her parents; she would enjoy her freedom. More likely, she would travel like Duncan and Kieran, who often went further than any map would show.
Now, Alistair and Rosalind had their freedom too. For the first time since they were 18 and 20, their lives were truly their own. They were 50 and 52 now. Alistair still isn’t quite sure how that happened, but he won’t argue with it. Freedom turned out to be a warm fire, a bottle of red, and a stray pup they’d taken in on a whim. He could happily live with that.
“She’ll be alright, just like the rest of them,” he assured her, putting his free hand on her thigh. “She has the benefit of our mistakes to guide her, after all.”
Rosalind snickered at that, flicking back through the letters, taking in those mistakes and treasuring them all. “She does, they all do.”
When they abdicated in 9:54, the prince and princesses were taken from the line of succession, making them the first Theirins in generations to live a life out of the shadow of the crown. They’d travelled Thedas as a family after that, before building their home at the old Amell estate. It made for a better home than Alistair’s inheritance, that he knew for sure.
Still, throughout the happiness, the taint loomed over them. He was grateful for every birthday, every milestone he saw from the children, but always feared it would be his last.
Then… it never came. Another Blight wreaked havoc, and once again, Alistair prepared for the end, but he and Ros lived. And after Thedas was saved, he and all the Wardens stopped hearing the song in their heads that lured them to their deaths. “The Maker smiled warmly on His Wardens for once,” some had said. Alistair was not as much in a rush to thank the Maker for any mercies after all he had seen. He and Ros had fought for every inch of their happiness, as far as he was concerned.
It had been so long since he felt that Taint in his blood that he'd almost forgotten about all the letters he'd written to Rosalind. It was only when he was helping Enya collect her belongings that he found them all, remembering all of the times that he had prepared to leave his family behind, all the times he tried to form his final words.
“The powers that be must be incredibly fond of us, to let us make it this far,” Rosalind smiled as she read every letter back to herself.
Alistair thought to say something back, but he couldn’t. Whether drunk on the wine or nostalgia, he just stared at her, this beautiful, infuriating, indescribable woman. He caught a glimpse of one of the silver strands in her hair she would always dye away. He took it between his fingers, softly, and thanked the Maker she was too busy reading to notice and fret over how old she was getting. In truth, they were both getting old, and what a joy that was.
For all the pain, he’d go through it again to see this grey in her hair, then go through it once more to see all her hair turn grey.