Written a little differently than the others, I think. Couldn't articulate as well as I wanted to, but I tried -_-'
Fourth: On selfishness.
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Worship
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Alistair's love for runes and all things mythic is not a secret. Every now and then, the royal palace will receive packages of statues or runes. Sometimes, these giant shipments are from nearby countries or city-states, eager to gain the favor of the new Fereldan King. Sometimes, Alistair himself orders these treasures on a whim. Anora is uncertain of where her husband deposits his hoard. She has seen the royal gardens with these statues of obscure figures, hidden in strategic places; the libraries filled with books with legends among tomes of magic; and even finds the occassional statuette in the baths.
When she confronted him about his soon-to-be hoarding, he looked a little sheepish. He grinned. "It's not like I'm draining the state treasury or anything. They're my shiny things."
Anora has seen Alistair in private with his so-called shiny things. She would find him alone in a garden or in their suite, gazing upon the current object of his affection. If it was a runestone or a statuette, he would finger upon every curve or crack; for statues, he would stand there, staring at the muse's delicate details. When he sensed her presence, he would shoo her away as nicely as possible ('Oh, Teagan was looking for you' or 'There's a new tariff for you to address in the study'). Anora would wonder what he is thinking, why he finds these things so terribly fascinating.
She asked Eamon about Alistair's addiction. The old man chuckled, surprised at Anora's curiousity. "The boy worships his legends; great tales of heroes, archdemons, and even princesses from dark towers. Alistair loved the war stories of eras gone. Once he hears a one, he just devours it. He wants to keep some of the glory. As a Grey Warden, he loved being with the fabled heroes themselves." Eamon chuckled again at this last part; Anora was annoyed. Why couldn't anyone give her a straight answer?
Once, the crown received a statue of the Hero of Ferelden, the mysterious Warden in all her whitestone glory. She was poised heroically, in mid-swing with a greatsword. Her stone armor was intricate, with the hereld of the Grey Wardens splashed on the chest. Her face was contorted into a heroic indifference: one more step towards the glorious end! The details on the greaves, the gauntlets-it was the work of a master. It was placed in the main garden, in the central fountain. The servants were pleased with themselves, thinking that their King would be overjoyed. Such a beautiful statue in a beautiful place, they must have thought, swooning over the Warden's form. When Alistair was presented with the statue—it was some garden party or tea with a visiting emissary or what not—he was amused, with a mischievious glint in his eyes. No one else seemed to notice this. The remaining nobles inquired him about the lovely statue; the 'did she really look like that, and where could I get one of those's. He answered with a forced smile, and merely answered that it was a gift, that yes, isn't it lovely, and look at those details. Anora kept quiet, as she herself knew nothing about the piece's origins.
It looked nothing like the Warden herself (too tall, eyes too wide, a frame too lithe for a warrior, and armor inappropriate for battle). Why keep such an item if it did nothing but confuse others? Eamon and the older nobles were also beguiled by the misguided statue, but said nothing to correct it. Teagan theorized that it was for the Warden's safety. (Best for no one to know her true appearance, he shook his head. I don't understand why Alistair would still keep it though.)
"Why keep it?" Anora finally brought it up to her husband during a quiet dinner. "Why keep the horrid thing?"
He looked at her as if she were crazy, then became amused when he realized the object of her questions. "Ah, the Hero's statue?"
"It is most certainly not she. I would think that even you should know that."
"Of course, of course," Alistair grinned, poking at his food absently. "I thought you of all people would understand, dear wife."
"Understand what exactly? That we wish to misguide visitors with wrong Heroes and idiot Kings?"
"Exactly! I'm simply hiding our valuables, locking my treasures away."
He avoided her icy glare by looking at his plate. She did not understand. The King now had a more wistful look on his face.
"A good legend doesn't need to be told twice."
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Confused? Alistair love/loved the Warden, wants to keep her for himself, in a different way than anyone thinks. He keeps the statue that doesn't look like her, lets everyone who doesn't already know, since perhaps the Warden is out of the current public's eye, think that that is the famed Hero, when he holds the true Hero/Warden for himself.