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The minute the door closed behind him, Alistair ran for the open road. He wanted as far away from the Landsmeet as possible. Betrayal coursed through him more painfully than even the darkspawn taint at his joining. How could she do that to him? After everything that they had been through together how could she just toss him away like that? Like it had all been nothing to her. He finally burst through the City Gates of Denerim and paused to take a breather, his shattered heart pounding against his chest.
Alistair didn't know what he was going to do, except to get as far away as possible. Once he caught his breath he picked a direction and started walking. He would have thought that the further he got the better he would feel, but that wasn't the case. The further he got from Denerim and her, the worse he felt. The knife she had plunged into his back was twisting until the pain was almost enough to make him turn back. Angry with himself, he pulled out his wine skin and took a deep gulp. The wine helped to ease the pain some and he kept walking. Every so often, when the pain would return he would take another long drink from the wine skin. Too soon, though, the skin was empty and the pain had returned in full force. Stumbling, Alistair found some ale to replace it and began to drink that to dull the pain. Before he knew it, he was too drunk to even walk and yet still she was all he could think about. As he passed out, Alistair thought to try harder alcohol to erase her memory. He thought to try dwarven ale, though he swore he would never do it again, anything that would get her off of his mind.
The minute that the Archdemon was slain and all the ceremonies complete, Althea went in search of Alistair. She felt so horrible for what had happened and her horror was well placed. She was responsible for his departure, everyone knew it. It was her acceptance of Loghain as a Grey Warden that had pushed him off of the deep end. She had wanted to run after him, knock some sense into him, or something but Riordan had stopped her. Her first duty was to stopping the Blight otherwise there might not be a later time to find Alistair. So she had stayed and taken her mind off of him by planning strategy with her other companions.
Now, the Blight was over and she was on her search. Queen Anora had offered her a position, but she had turned it down to find Alistair. Zevran and Leliana had offered to accompany her, but Althea wanted to do this on her own. She had broken his heart in front of the entire Landsmeet, betrayed him in front of the entire Landsmeet. It wouldn't be a good idea to try to talk to him in front of an audience.
Althea started in the obvious places such as Redcliffe and Highever, but no one had seen him. Not that Arl Eamon would tell her if he had. Eamon wasn't exactly the friendliest to her since the Landsmeet. He held her personally responsible for what had happened to Alistair and she was she knew that. When the obvious places didn't work out, she switched to following the taint. For days on end she would follow the feeling in her gut only to find out she was trailing darkspawn rather than Alistair. The fighting helped her to keep her temper down and it also helped her with the fact that she was shrinking her duties as a Warden.
Alistair stumbled down the street, his arms filled with every type of alcohol he could get his hands on. Most of the time he was numb to the pain, but no matter how drunk he was he couldn't escape her. Everywhere he looked, every woman he saw reminded him of her. A woman passing him on the street had the same pale blonde hair. Another had her smile, while yet another had her voice. It was driving him insane and most days he didn't leave his apartment. The only time he left was when he needed more to drink. Tonight, though, he had every type of drink known to man and he would finally drink her memory away.
Althea finally came to a little rundown town and excitement passed through her. This town wasn't being threatened by darkspawn, Alistair had to be here! She quickly checked all the Inns and apartments until only the dire ones remained. As she entered one she smiled politely at the clerk and asked about Alistair, showing the man a portrait she had of him. The clerk nodded and Althea couldn't contain her excitement.
"What room is he in?" She asked excitedly.
"He was in the top one, but not no more." The clerk explained. "Found him two mornings ago face down in his pillow, dead; buried the body under the willow out there. We found this lying next to him along with a million empty liquor bottles. He was the town drunk."
Althea took the note and read Alistair's last words. I'll love her 'til I die was written sloppily, but clearly in Alistair's handwriting. After thanking the clerk she left to visit his grave. For hours she cried over his grave, cried until the tears stopped coming. How could she have done this to him? He had drunk himself to death because of her betrayal. Althea couldn't stay here; she had to get away from this place.
When she arrived back in Denerim and told everyone about Alistair's death the rumors began. Eamon blamed her as did most of her other friends. Nobody knew how much she blamed herself though. She stopped sleeping because every time she closed her eyes she saw his face smiling at her and the dagger in her heart twisted further. The only thing that seemed to help was the ale. Every night she would drink until she passed out cold. When she was passed out she couldn't see him. She was blissfully frozen to everything around her.
She tried to keep a normal appearance and hide the alcohol on her breath, but each passing day it was more and more difficult to care about what others thought. Most days she was lucky if she only thought about him and the guilt a hundred times. No matter how much she drank she could never get him off her mind. He was always there, except when she was passed out. When she woke up, though, he was the first thing on her mind. It got to be so bad that everywhere she looked she saw him. No matter the man she saw her Alistair. He was smiling at her and welcoming her with open arms. It drove her crazy until she locked herself in her room with a ton of ale. Tonight she was finally going to drink away his memory.
The next morning they found Althea Cousland face down in her pillow dead. She was clutching a portrait of Alistair Theirin for dear life. In her will there was only one request to be laid beneath the same willow as Alistair. As the request was carried out, the willow was filled with birds all singing a whiskey lullaby.
A/N: The moment I heard this song I thought of Alistair being a wandering drunk. Please review!