#also cailan's bi as shit and you guys can pry that from my cold dead hands

[spacemomalex]

fuck my guys, it’s been a while since I did literally anything related to writing. But here you folks go! Some Alistair POV because I love him and he makes me sad.

Friendly reminder that this is a drabble (maybe series of) thing that I’m oing relating back to my “canon” origins verse. This snippit is from not long after Zayn became a warden and was sent to ostagar. Though unlike the game, he arrives a little earlier than the eve of the final battle and gets himself situated in camp.

“Oh don’t look now, trouble’s on the way.” 

Alistair watched with fascination as Zayn’s face cycled through the stages of grief. Normally, he was the one dreading time spent in the presence of his perfect, too-pretty princely half brother. (Okay so he was more of a king, and he was a decent man sometimes. But it still irked Alistair.) To his relief and delight, the fast elven friend he made in Zayne Surana, was just as annoyed by Cailan as he was.

Unfortunately for them both, Cailan seemed every bit as interested in being friendly to the only person in Ostagar that was willing and capable of graceful backhands, or blunt honest, or (Alistair’s personal favorite) exasperated sass of how wrong everyone was doing everything and exactly how to fix it. It was so annoying that they shared an interest in the same man, but the good king was unable to take a hint and realize that Zayn preferred spending time with him instead.

“If I have to listen Loghain bitch about this later...” Alistair hid a snicker under a cough.

As fascinating as Zayn was to them, and many of the wardens, and the elves, Loghain and Zayn despised each other. They avoided each other like plague ridden rats, and when forced to share breathing room, they tended to spend more time snapping at the other’s battle plans than actually planning. With Loghain questioning him at every turn, and Zayn happily stabbing holes in Loghain’s in return. Truly, they loved to hate.

As for Cailan, he sought out Zayn’s company whenever he had the chance. Dragging him to his meetings, having him talk to the various different parties in the war camp (for Zayn was, in fact, incredibly persuasive when he wanted to be). Annoying both Loghain and Alistair for, well, not similar reasons, but annoying them all the same.

“Ho friend! Good day to you wardens!” And there he was, in all in royal regal glory. 

“Cailan.” Another thing Alistair liked about Zayn, he only ever graciously nodded his head in greeting. Like equals. He never deferred to the king, despite being an elven mage. Alistair internally applauded him for doing what he couldn’t.

“A fine day for-”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries yes? What miserable task do you want me to do this time? We,” Zayn said, propping a hand on his elegant hip and jerking his head in Alistair’s general direction. “Were going to go eat.”

“Just to talk with such pleasant company as yourself.” Cailan offered one of those heart melting smiles that had most women sighing for days over his rugged good looks and warm kingly aura. Yet only made Zayn grunt in annoyance.

That was the other weird thing. Alistair couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but Cailan constantly complimented him too. On his shoulder-length braids, or the blue of his eyes, even once said he had the voice of a bard when he managed to sway a squabbling Templar and mage into a compromise. Alistair thought Cailan must be losing his grip- who even compliments someone on their voice?

“No really what do you want?”

“No really, just to talk.”

Zayne was squinting, suspicious. And rightly so! Alistair believed. 

“Oh, alright. There were some plans I wanted to discuss with you. Preferably alone.” 

“Ugh. I knew it.”

Still, in these past few months he had come to know Zayn. The man was as honorable as they came. Regardless of how trivial the matter, his friend would reach out to try and fix the problem to the best of his considerable abilities. 

So Alistair isn’t the least bit surprised as Zayn turned to him with an ever suffering, apologetic, look and said. “I’ll join you later?”

“If he keeps you up past your bedtime, leave him to the Loghain’s tender mercies. Then mine, cause seriously, who’s going to count how many bread loafs I can stuff in my mouth without you there?” 

“I know! The tragedy of it all!” Alistair grinned as he pointedly ignored Cailan’s pout in favor of his friend’s bright cackle.

Had anyone asked, Alistair would have told them he’d rather let the dogs slobber on him again for six weeks straight than be king. He still felt that way. Down to his very core. A king had to be responsible for everyone. He wouldn’t wish that kind of horrible fate on anyone. But, though he told himself he wouldn’t, he turned to sneak a glance as they walked away. Zayn was every bit as regal, every bit as self confident as the king. Like he belonged in a position of power and, by the Maker, he was good at it.

Not wanting to be king didn’t do anything to make him feel any better about finding himself left behind by powerful men again.