It Began in Lothering

Alistair had just turned twenty and he found himself walking around the village of Lothering in Ferelden. He'd had a party. He had cake. He had presents.

He had a shock.

He found out that he'd been adopted. He found out about his blood parents … and now he knew why he'd been getting preferential treatment from the Chantry and the Ferelden Circle.

And, it really wasn't because of his good looks.

The entire country seemed to know what he just found out. Isn't that always the way? he thought to himself. Just when you start to think you're pretty smart, you find out you're the most ignorant person around.

After hearing about the people responsible for his birth, Alistair had gotten up from the table, politely excused himself and left his party. He took a flask of brandy and a handful of cheese cubes with him … all consumed in minutes.

Outside on the Hawke's porch, he walked past a group of warden recruits who had been traveling with Duncan. They didn't say anything, but one of them did a double-take. He'd probably seen a painting of Maric's somewhere. He looked to be Alistair's age. Maybe they told him. "Yes, yes, Maric did have a bastard. We're not telling the bastard, though."

And, Alistair's little brother had missed the perfect opportunity to give him shit about it. Carver joined the army. Teryn Loghain and King Cailan came through Lothering on their way to Ostagar. Cailan gave a rousing talk that everyone cheered but no one took seriously. Loghain spoke plainly and garnered quite a few soldier recruits for the cause … Carver among them.

Leandra Hawke didn't want her youngest son to go off to war, but Alistair took Carver's side. No one was more shocked than Carver to hear his big brother agree with him. Carver was eighteen and a man … and had been training very hard with Ser Bryant, the Knight-Commander at the Chantry in Lothering, as well as some of the best militiamen in the area. He would make a good soldier … as long as he kept his opinions to himself. More importantly, this wasn't just "war". It was a potential Blight that would destroy the world if not stopped early. If Alistair didn't feel that he needed to stay home to protect his mother and sister, he would have been one of the first to volunteer.

But, to get back to that day … maybe "party" was the wrong word to describe the gathering at the Hawke residence. Alistair was, at first, pleasantly surprised when "Uncle" Duncan came to the party. He stopped by from time to time while Alistair was growing up. His parents … and, yes, Alistair still considered the Hawkes to be his parents … told the children that Duncan was an old friend of theirs. The Warden-Commander never came empty-handed. He always brought presents and sweets … and sometimes, Heartland cheese from Orlais. Today, Duncan's "present" was to be around to confirm what Leandra told Alistair: that Fiona, an Orlesian elf mage — once Grey Warden — now the Grand Enchanter in Cumberland, was his blood mother.

Also, Duncan confirmed that King Maric was his blood father.

Alistair stopped atop the bridge before the Chantry when a thought hit him square in the face. Duncan had been in the Deep Roads with them … when … when …

Since Alistair was ten or so, everyone kidded him about being a bastard of Maric's. He supposedly looked like the old king. But … to find out it was true. His mother confirmed that some of the Ferelden nobility … including his half-brother, the king, and Teryn Loghain … knew Alistair's … or rather, Maric's … dirty little secret. He looked around and didn't realize he'd walked directly to the Chantry. It seemed his navigational sense, as well as his thoughts, were jumbled up and askew.

Or, maybe not.

He knew why he ended up at the Chantry. One of his best friends was there. He had become increasingly close to Sister Leliana. He had to pray to the Maker to ask forgiveness for his thoughts … about a Sister in the Chantry. She was beautiful and worldly and thoughtful and beautiful. He admonished himself, Guess I already said … thought … that.

But, he didn't make it through the heavy double-door to the Chantry. Ser Bryant was just exiting with Ser Irminric, the Templar who stood vigil over Alistair during his Harrowing … and a friend. "Alistair! We were just coming to talk to you."

Alistair chuckled. "Um, sorry. They already told me. I was just coming here to get my thoughts straight."

Bryant and Irminric gave each other a questioning look. After a few moments, the light dawned on Bryant. "Ah, your twentieth." When Irminric still looked confused, Bryant explained. "Alistair was to be told … about things … on his twentieth birthday."

To his credit, Irminric mirrored Alistair's feelings perfectly. He was horrified and frightened, but his words were appreciated. "It really makes no difference to the man you've become, Alistair. The Maker put you on this path and will always watch over you." Then, he smiled, "As will we."

That made Alistair smile. He'd heard about mages' complaints with the Circle … much of which was justified in Alistair's mind … but these two Templars were good men. Things were seldom as black and white as people made them out to be. After all, it had been a Templar who helped his father escape from Kirkwall's oppressive Circle: Ser Maurevar Carver, his little brother's namesake. If mages didn't want to be all painted with the same stroke, they would need to learn to do the same with Templars. That was the way Malcolm Hawke taught his children.

Of course, maybe it was that way because the Hawkes were raising a bastard of Maric's. Alistair now realized that mage children of other families likely saw the more black and white treatment.

"So, if not the 'things', what were you coming to talk to me about?" Alistair asked.

Irminric took a deep breath. "Let's find someplace private. The Chantry is already filling with refugees from the south."

"Already?" Alistair frowned. "Is the fighting close?"

"No, rumors mostly at this point. It seems the wardens and King's soldiers are holding the line." Bryant motioned that they should head to the stables. "However, if I had a farmhold near Ostagar, I'd be moving my family."

Alistair felt a bit of alarm creep up. "Perhaps we should be ready to leave, too."

"Not a bad idea to be prepared. However, today's trip shouldn't take too long. A half day at the most." Bryant nodded toward three horses already saddled at the rear of the stables. "We can tell you more along the way."

A mage had escaped the Circle and used blood magic to do it. Duncan had been there and got a new warden recruit out of the deal — once a friend of the blood mage. Irminric had been surprised that an Initiate had "fallen in love" with the blood mage. Greagoir insisted that the Initiate had her own mind, so she was sent to Aeonar, a mysterious mage prison somewhere in the north. Anyway, Irminric thought Alistair might be able to talk to this young mage and avoid any violence.

They stopped by the Hawke residence en route. Alistair went inside to grab his enchanted sword and let his mother know where he was going … and make apologies for his quick exit earlier. Alistair was disappointed that Duncan had already left for Ostagar with his new recruits. He'd just have to apologize to him later.

Within a few minutes, he left with Bryant and Irminric. True to his word, within the hour, Bryant indicated the small farmhouse where the apostate had been reported to be hiding out.

Alistair went first and knocked on the door. Irminric and Bryant had stationed themselves around the corner of the front porch. Alistair was surprised when a frightened, disheveled young man actually opened the door. "Hello, my name is Alistair … um, are you all right?"

"Not really. Would you like to come in? My name is Jowan."

"If you don't mind. It is a bit warm out today." Alistair stepped into a farmhouse that looked like it was just waiting for the farmers to come home for supper … only, the hearth was cold and there was no one cooking supper. "Are you here alone? Where are the farmhol…"

Alistair didn't get out the end of the question because the boy locked him with a paralyze glyph. It was a rookie mistake on Alistair's part, but a temporary one. As Jowan was going for a knife to cut his hand, Bryant's cleanse ability released the glyph and Irminric's smite put both mages on the floor of the small house. Irminric ran in to put enchanted manacles on Jowan while Alistair sat there and rubbed his temples. "I really wish you two would let me handle things just a bit longer."

"You're a free mage and you're helping them?! Traitor!" Jowan was livid and wide-eyed.

Irminric was about to hit them with another smite when Bryant stopped him. Bryant picked up a napkin from the cupboard, poured a sleeping draught on it and held it over Jowan's mouth. "No need to hit Alistair again." Soon, the young mage was incapacitated and in Irminric's custody — no magic or smiting required. Irminric and his charge headed north to the Circle while Bryant and Alistair headed back to Lothering.

"He's going to be made Tranquil, isn't he?" Alistair fairly well growled that question.

"If only he hadn't used blood magic …" Bryant began.

"It wouldn't have made any difference. If he was already being helped to escape, Jowan knew he was going to be made Tranquil." Alistair took a deep breath. Tranquility. The Templar answer to too many situations. Blood magic. Too often, a mage's answer to treatment in the Circle. He glared at Bryant. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"I believe that was the situation, yes." Bryant stopped his horse. "Do you really think you could have done better?"

It was an odd question from a Templar, but Ser Bryant was an unusual Templar. "Yes. Absolutely. The glyph from an apprentice wouldn't have lasted long enough for him to cut himself before I could lock him in stone. And, my spell would last long enough for me to talk him down." Alistair started his horse toward home again. "Irminric is a good man but he's much too quick to believe rumor without any facts. What if this Initiate were complicit? What if she were acting under orders from some of the more extreme Templars at Kinloch … and you know there have been quite a few lately."

Bryant caught up to Alistair. He was frowning. "Greagoir sent three disagreeable Templars away just last week." His frown deepened. "Alistair, you know I do what I can, but perhaps it is a good time for you and your family to move on … for more reasons than the darkspawn … some Chantry folks are getting nervous with you and Bethany freely walking around Lothering."

Alistair took a deep breath. "If I find out who told Ceorlic that we were mages, they had better be ready for a long conversation." Alistair and Bethany were well-liked in Lothering … until Bann Ceorlic started complaining about Lothering becoming a haven for "hundreds" of unchecked apostates … and just that day Alistair found out the real reason King Cailan had stepped in to quiet Ceorlic: Alistair, the king's half brother, was one of those apostates.

"It was inevitable, Alistair, and the King's influence only goes so far. Sadly, I know you and your family are no strangers to moving." Bryant looked sincerely concerned. "For what it's worth, I shall miss your friendship."

Over the next few weeks, while the Hawkes began to get ready to move on, news got increasingly dire for the villagers of Lothering. Finally, the rumors became fact. Alistair ran back to the Hawke residence with the news just announced by Teryn Loghain in the square. He didn't even stay for the entire announcement. "Mother, Bethany … we need leave."

"Not without Carver!" Leandra's hands were shaking as she mercilessly wrung the towel she was holding.

Alistair wasn't without sympathy. In fact, he could feel the moisture in his own eyes. He motioned to the table and pulled out a chair for his mother. Bethany sat next to her mother and took her hand. Alistair sighed. "Mother, Teryn Loghain just announced that Ostagar is lost. The Grey Wardens underestimated the horde. They were overrun. The Teryn pulled his men out at the last moment."

"But, there had to be survivors!" Bethany jumped up and started pacing. "Maybe Carver got away before … the end." She shook her head. "No. No, I would feel it if Carver were gone."

After kneeling in front of his mother, Alistair added, "Mother, this isn't a bunch of Orlesian fops heading this way. These are monsters."

The front door opened. They were all relieved to see Carver standing there. He was dirty, a little bloody, but very much alive. "For once, Alistair isn't overstating it, Mother. We need to leave immediately."

Alistair stood aside while his mother and sister fussed over Carver. For the first time in his life, he felt like a stranger in his own home. The people he'd grown up with, argued with and loved weren't really his blood family … but he still loved them like one. And, he always would.

While Leandra berated Carver for not eating, Bethany stepped up to Alistair and whispered, "I know what's going through your mind and you need to stop that thinking right now."

"Mind reading now?" Alistair asked with a sad smirk. He used to think that his intuition and Bethany's were "family" traits.

"So, what has big brother all moody now?" Carver fairly hollered from the table in between bites of stew.

Bethany punched Carver in the arm. "Just eat … then, take a bath. The rest of us will finish packing so we can load the wagon in the morning and leave." Bethany always was the family supervisor when it came to situations like that.

While Alistair was helping Leandra decide what, if any, of the kitchen things to pack, Bethany must have told Carver. From the back room of their small house, everyone within a mile must have heard Carver shout, "He's a bloody king now!"

Alistair took a deep breath and his mother gave him a firm hug. "He'll pipe down, Alistair."

"Where are we going to go, Mother?" It was a question that had been bothering Alistair. The half-brother he'd never met — only ever saw from afar — was dead. The country was without a king … and without any wardens, if Loghain's report was true. "Maker, King Cailan and Duncan dead. A horde of darkspawn heading north."

Apparently, it had been a question Leandra had been asking herself as well. "We can go to Kirkwall."

Bethany walked into the kitchen at that moment. "Kirkwall?! There are a lot of Templars in Kirkwall, Mother."

Almost concurrently, Alistair added, "Well … that wouldn't be my first choice."

But, Leandra wasn't put off the idea. "We have family there. The Amells are well-respected."

Carver walked in carrying two large, bulging bags, not missing the opportunity to shoot Alistair a glare. "Uncle Gamlen hasn't written us in months, Mother, and that last letter was pretty short: 'I'm fine. — Gamlen'"

"I know, Carver. I'm sure he's a busy man, running the family estate and all," Leandra explained. Alistair loved his mother with no reservations … but she could put blinders on when it came to her brother.

A brief knock on the door preceded Leliana entering the home. "Good. You're ready to go." She walked up to Alistair and put her hands on his shoulders. "Ser Bryant just told me that Loghain is looking to lock you up. You all need to leave right now."

"Lock Alistair up?! What for? Loghain's the one who should be locked up!" Carver was vehement. Alistair was touched that his little brother picked up his sword and went to stand between Alistair and the door. "Loghain's a deserter and traitor to Ferelden. He's gone out of his mind."

Leliana nodded. "I agree from what I've heard."

Alistair hugged Leliana, tired of proprieties. "You could come with us." He knew she hadn't taken vows. She could leave the Chantry if she wished.

She pulled out of the hug and smiled up at Alistair. "I can't. I … I have another path." Then, she looked at the rest of the family. "I know you are all going to think I am insane, but last night, I had a vision … from the Maker. I was on a hill and all around was darkness. I jumped down into the darkness."

After a moment and a deep breath to fill the silence in the room, she added, "Some of the new warden recruits survived Ostagar. They just arrived in Lothering with an apostate from the Wilds whose mother healed them." She took Alistair's hand. "I mean to … jump down into the darkness … to go with them to fight the darkspawn. I believe the Maker has set me on this path." She squeezed his hand. "You have your own path to travel. It is much too dangerous for you to stay in Ferelden right now."

Bethany explained the plan and Leliana thought it was a good one: hide in a place no one would think two apostates would go to willingly. "Don't make yourselves too widely known."

Carver snickered. "Here that, Alistair? You have to stop being a big hero."

Alistair just sighed and shook his head. "Maybe I should go off …"

Bethany, Leandra, Leliana … even Carver … said, "No!"

"Look, I know you and I have our differences, Alistair … and I know you've got this royal blood now … but you're still my big brother. You stay with us." Carver's words were punctuated by his steely, but sincere, gaze. Then he laughed. "Now, I can call you a royal bastard and it's not swearing."

"Carver!" both Leandra and Bethany said.

After a bit more discussion and planning and packing, there was another knock at the door. It had to be sometime after midnight, so Carver picked up his sword again … but he didn't need it.

This time it was one of the new warden recruits — the one who seemed to recognize Alistair. "Good … uh … I guess that would be morning by now. I'm Devon Cousland." He looked at Alistair. "And, in a better world, I'd be bending knee and calling you, 'Your Majesty'; however, now, we all need to leave. Loghain left some of his men in town. Loghain's put a bounty on me, Ariel, Daldain and Taosen." A bark behind Devon made him smile. "And Dancer, my mabari. But, the bounty on Alistair Theirin Hawke is larger … a lot larger."

Leandra explained the decision to go to Kirkwall. Devon said that the northern ports were either unavailable or too dangerous. They all agreed Gwaren — even though it was the home of Loghain — would be the safest port to use. Loghain would be in Denerim now that his daughter was a widow and fighting the Bannorn to remain Queen.

Devon also said that the wardens would help the family get to Gwaren. Devon looked around the room. "How about if we travel together through the Brecilian. We need to find Ari's clan if we can and remind them of their commitment to the Grey Wardens."

Leliana turned to Alistair. "There are some desperate people in town. People you called friend will turn you in for the bounty." She smiled at him. "And, I will get to travel with you for part of the way."

It seemed like Devon had stepped into Duncan's shoes out of necessity. In short order, a wagon was packed and the group was heading east on the darkened road to the Brecilian Passage and then on to Gwaren.

"So, the Champion was once well respected in Lothering, despite the fact he was an apostate?" Seeker Pentaghast looked more impressed than confused.

"Yeah. The Templar's good treatment of Alistair and the Hawkes really was more than the fact of Alistair's royal blood. Malcolm built the foundation of trust and service in every village they lived; however, eventually, the people would turn against them because of Chantry influence. So, they would have to move. They were in Lothering a long time. Both Bethany and Alistair continued to build the trust with their service … until survival against the darkspawn came along and trumped it all." Varric was starting to get tired. He could sense his storytelling slipping to dry and uninteresting. "Could we continue this tomorrow?"

That question roused the Seeker from her thoughts. "Yes, yes, of course."

"Can I sleep in my own bed at the Hanged Man?" Varric stood and stretched.

After narrowing her eyes at Varric and thinking a moment, she said, "Yes, but there will be guards posted outside your door." She bent closer to Varric's face to make her next point: "Do not try to escape, dwarf. You would not like the treatment you would get if you do."

"Got it. See you in the morning." Varric wasn't surprised that he was escorted all the way to the Hanged Man. He saw Donnic and Bodahn in the shadows by Worthy's stall just before the stairs to Lowtown. Varric made a slight nod toward Lowtown and Donnic seemed to understand.

Varric had no intention of escaping, but he also had no intention of leaving the Champion uninformed. Tonight, he would write up what had transpired with the Seeker and leave it in his room at the Hanged Man for Bodahn to find in the morning. Bodahn would get it to Alistair who was hiding out in a cave on the Wounded Coast that they had taken from the Tal-Vashoth.

"Don't try to rescue me! I'm fine." Varric wrote that at the end of his report. He prayed that Alistair wouldn't do something stupid, but Varric knew that wasn't a given.

AN: Thanks for all reviews, favorites and follows! :) They make my week!

I've had some fun wrangling a good upbringing into Alistair. I think that upbringing is what makes him more confident right now instead of after a run-in with a fraudulent sister. However, the mage bits and finding out about his real parents bring back some of the insecure Alistair from time to time. Now, he's hunted for being an apostate and a potential threat to the throne. Of all the countries in Thedas, other than Tevinter, I can see that the Ferelden Bannorn might just put a Theirin mage on the throne if he were competent AND the last Theirin. Feisty bunch in the Bannorn.

Guest, :) back atcha! Thanks! I can use all the smilies I can get.

anesor, the Heartland cheese sentence was put in just for you! ;) Thanks for the review!

Judy, glad to see you still like my twisted mind. ;) Nice to hear from you!

The Invisible Pretender, thanks! I hope you continue to be interested. There will be a little bit more of Origins mixed into DAII next time. :)