Chapter Text
Domnall Cousland is dead. Before you judge me, please understand I never wanted this - any of it. He was my friend, my partner; together we worked to clean up Thedas and clear the streets from the Blight. No one knows how it made its way into the population, but Dom and me? We tried to end it - finally end it.
Archibald ‘Arch’ Deimon - this is all his fault. He brought the Blight back to the city. Good people died because of it. Good people.
Then came Solona. I never would have thought a woman would come between us. She couldn’t have known, but she played us both. Was it a way out for her? I don’t know. You can’t be a mage and not expect a few prejudices - there are wounds from history that doom the descendants without mercy. I think she loved us both. Dom walked away from her, said she was too much and he confessed he never loved her. Problem is - I do.
I’m a Grey Warden. We protect the people, the land and wait. I’ve waited long enough. It’s time to tell my story. My name is Alistair Theirin.
She stopped taking notes and looked at him. “So you’re Alistair. The real Alistair?”
The real Alistair, he thought, Who else would I be? “I should change my name . . .or something.”
Her name was Madeleine, an aspiring writer; she’d attempted to talk with Alistair for months. Stories and articles speculating about Domnall Cousland’s mysterious death appeared on every paper from Denerim to Weisshaupt since Deimon’s defeat. Conjecture, misunderstandings and misconceptions flowed from every available source except for the two people in all of Thedas who were present; Alistair Theirin and Solona Amell. “Warden Alistair, I’m offering you a chance to tell the story – your story to all of Thedas.” She snatched the Thedas Herald from his desk.
“Hey!” Alistair yelled and then gained control of his voice. “It’s my desk, but go ahead, help yourself.”
Madeleine pointed to the headline. “Look at this Warden. ‘Wardens Hiding in the Hills, Cover-up Continues’.” She slammed the paper down. “You can silence these bottom feeders, Warden.”
Alistair turned from the window and a sideways glance revealed an arched brow. “I see, and what do you get from me silencing your competition?”
She would benefit, profit even from the story. Solona Amell refused to talk with her. Alistair Theirin was her ticket out of the steno pool. She watched as he fell into his desk chair and lit a cigarette. “Those aren’t great for you, Warden. I read a paper that mentioned the poisons in those things.”
Alistair’s laugh, caustic and bold made her wince. He took an exaggerated drag and hummed in delight before exhaling. “I’m going to die. I mean we all die sometime but the Taint, the price of being a Warden? It’ll kill me long before these things will,” he said lifting the cigarette. Realizing his ill-mannered behavior, Alistair apologized and stubbed out the cigarette. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”
"No, Warden, I apologize. You and Warden Cousland saved Thedas, you stopped the Blight. I didn’t mean to insult you.” Madeleine worried she’d pushed too hard. “Another time, perhaps?”
She gathered her waistcoat and hat. Well done, Maddie, she scolded herself, good job. She stood to excuse herself.
Alistair stood out of politeness and sighed. “Wait. If I tell you everything, you’ll present it in my words, all right? Don’t add, don’t dramatize and no editorializing either. If I am to be humiliated and vilified, it might as well be my own words that condemn me.” Alistair looked out the window of his office into the heart of Denerim’s business district. “It should have been me,” Alistair said to no one.
Madeleine returned to her chair but did not speak hoping he would continue.
“Maker’s breath. I . . .do people still believe in the Maker? You really want to hear what happened, don’t you?” He looked to her and for a moment the grief and torment in his eyes seemed to implore her to say no.
Guilt flowed with every beat of her heart; Alistair’s pain was not an act, not at all like the papers claimed. He was no trained animal, carrying out the whims of a fanatical group. She nodded; a slow and deliberate affirmation to herself that she accepted the exploitation she was about to commit. Another look into his eyes and she wavered, “yes, but I’ll go through that door and never return if that’s what you want, Warden.”
He smiled and wagged a finger in her direction, falling back into his chair. “You’re good.” Alistair fidgeted with a few loose items on his desk, twirling a pencil in his fingers. “This is not a fairy tale, you know. The knight doesn’t slay the dragon, get the girl and live happily ever after.”
“Happily ever after is overrated and knights in shining armor riding to the rescue is a dream we tell ourselves, Warden.” Madeleine leaned back in her chair. “Can I ask an awkward question?”
A wry smile, a long inhale and Alistair exhaled as he spoke, “as opposed to the complete non-awkward way you’ve asked me to bare my soul by sharing what happened to Dom?”
Embarrassment and guilt numbed her face. She was asking him to reveal his secrets and faults. “I’ll make you a promise Warden, when finished, if you decide you don’t want to share your story, it’s yours. No strings, I promise.” She blanched at her oath to him. You are an idiot, Maddie - a real gem.
Alistair laughed, a rich laugh that filled and warmed the room all once. “Sneaky, my dear. Very sneaky,” another wag of his finger in her direction accompanied by a wide grin put her at ease. “All right Madeleine, ask your question.”
She hesitated, if her research was off, the Warden might be offended and throw her out. However, if the rumors were true, the story was of even more interest. “Alistair Theirin. As in Maric – this land belonged to my blood back to the beginning of time - Theirin? Brother of Cailan? Heir to. . .well, just about everything from Denerim to the border of Orlais?”
He hummed in response. “Yes . . .that. Cailan was . . .my half-brother. For the record, I killed the bastards who murdered him. As for the rest? Maric was my father. The land rights are still in dispute. Cailan’s widow still contends it belongs to her, but considering what her father. . .”
“Yes? What happened?” Madeleine prodded Alistair to continue.
Lifting his hands palm up he attempted to slow the conversation. “If we will do this, we need to start at the beginning. Dom told me what happened to his family and how he joined the Wardens, but my memory might be a little fuzzy on some details.”
“Let me get this set up.” She nodded, pulling out the reel-to-reel portable tape recorder.
Alistair grinned watching her fumble with the tape. “Clever. You came prepared. Take your time, I’m not about to run off.”
Placing a small cradle on his desk, she rested a microphone on the cradle. “This will pick up all you say, Warden. Speak as you have been with me, the microphone will pick up your voice.”
“All right, where should I start?” Alistair asked. Madeleine stopped the recorder and rewound it. ‘all right, where should I start?’ Alistair’s voice chirped back as the tape played. “Is that what I sound like? That is . . . somehow very creepy.”
Madeline nodded, “it can be strange hearing your voice on tape.” She settled in her chair with notepad and pencil. “Whenever you’re ready, Warden. Start wherever you feel is best.” Madeleine pressed the buttons to activate the recorder.
Alistair tried to think of the perfect opening to their story, finding none other than the truth, he closed his eyes for a moment and began his tale.