Oh, Grey Warden
What have you done?
She had arrived barely an hour before the 'vigil' for the fallen. Even after Adamant people were still coming in Skyhold as a pilgrimage. But there was one figure who said nothing. One figure out of many that hid under a hood was almost easy to miss.
But it was her walk that gave her away. The simple way she stood straight up, as if she was a soldier. And she was. Used to be.
She stood the farthest from the vigil. For those Grey Wardens lost at Adamant.
That's when she noticed Leliana step up, "And now, a moment of silence for the man... The Great man that allowed our Inquisitor to live."
She noticed Morrigan hold her son closer. She mourned the man who fathered the boy. In her own way.
"During the 5th Blight I had the rare opportunity to fight alongside two Grey Wardens. The Hero of Fereldan and Alistair." Leliana bowed her head, "We fought Darkspawn, bandits... But he was passionate in everything he did. He believed in the Wardens until the very end. He believed he could do more as a Grey Warden than he ever could as King."
"Alistair was my friend. He held his head high even when he had a knife pointed at him. He never wavered. He never faltered." Leliana continued. "He will remain a light, an inspiration to all. He was what every Grey Warden should aspire to."
The Pilgrim let tears fall from her cheeks. She couldn't... Her hands shook. But she couldn't look away. This was all some big joke, wasn't it? Alistair would come out of the sidelines, point and laugh, "Crying isn't very Warden-y!" She'd punch him in the shoulder and they'd laugh about it later, "Remember when..."
She remembered their last kiss when she promised that the next time they met it would be forever. Now... She would never get the chance to hold his hand, hear his jovial laugh, eat his infamous 'uniform-grey stew', his jokes when she suffered nightmares... It was all gone.
Without Alistair there was nothing. No bright shining light, no goofy laugh to brighten her day. No. It was all gone.
She didn't care that she was crying loudly at this point, she didn't care what attention was drawn to her. She didn't care. There wasn't a thing anybody could do. She was completely and utterly alone. And she preferred it that way.
She knew that he wouldn't want her like this, she had almost died once, Wynne had barely been able to heal her wounds. But she saw the look in Alistair's eyes. The heartbreak, the tears.
"Crying isn't very... Warden-y." She had said, wiping away his tears.
The rejoice in his eyes, as he held her close, but gently. Then he gave a nervous laugh, "Was that what I was doing? Is that what that's called?"
She tried to assosiate with her previous life... But she became a Theirin and now could never see her goofy, romantic, gallant husband ever again.
It was all stupid wasn't it? Clarel was a total tit. She had no right leading the Wardens. What was she going to accomplish using fucking blood magic? She knew that shit was evil. Clarel KNEW what the need for power does to people.
Alistair... He had warned her of Corypheus, warned her that it wasn't the true Calling she was hearing in her head, but a trick. He warned her to get away as far as she could from Orlais, to let the Inquisition handle Corypheus. But that certainly didn't help him did it? She had begged him to come with her, they could clear Darkspawn much faster if they were together, the could recruit together. Alistair was selfish in the end, wasn't he? Going out in a blaze of fucking glory?
The Inquisition and the Inquisitor, holy self-righteous... They left him there. The let him die. They killed him. Was it not in her right to slay all of them here and now? Kill all of the bastards even if she went down with them?
She couldn't take it. She fell to her knees and cradled her head in her hands. None of this was fair none of this. Could she go back in time and reverse her decision to keep Alistair in the Wardens? He'd be miserable as King. But he would've been good to Fereldan, just as he was good to her. He would've begged her to be his queen. She wouldn't have refused.
She would've gone and searched for a cure to the Taint anyways, but he would be safe. He'd be mad at her leaving, but he'd be safe in Denerim's castle and the only thing she'd have to worry about was if he paid attention to his advisors. No doubt he barely would've done it anyways. She'd send him letters, signed with a kiss...
If she had been there, she could've helped him out. She could've saved him. They would've all come out on top. She could've tipped the scales in their favor.
"Maker..." She begged, taking her head from her hands, "Give him back. I can't... I'll do anything. Send me a sign, what do you want? My blood? My soul? You already stole my heart, what's keeping you from anything else? I'll keep him in Denerim, we'll elect a big statue in Andraste's name..." She pleaded. Anything to just have him back.
But there was no sign. There was no lightning that made Alistair appear again. There was nothing.
She felt tears run down her face. This was it, wasn't it? Complete and utter loneliness. Her heart was missing from her chest, and she clearly felt the hole in it. Her dark eyes were clouded with tears, her face streaked with wetness.
It hit her like a cave in.
Alistair was gone. 'Until death do us part' was never so real in her mind.
The Oath you have taken
Is all but broken