my beloved 🥁🎸
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my beloved 🥁🎸

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TES:O VERSE: alistair asherth breton | druid | member of the druid's enclave.
❝ living for the hope of it all. ❞
cool elf pranks w zevran and estel
aka alistair gets punked
someone wrote an alistair/anora fic
and then i tag commented and they sent me an ask and then i wound up replying with like.... this......... tear my life into peaches this is my last fruit tart
gay wardens gay wardens gay wardens
quick short cute things with casper/alistair and leliana/tinuviel u_u

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alistair/anora manifesto pt 2
in which a brief musing about cailan's gallantry or lack thereof (more or less) turns into intense alistair/anora emotions and more extensive thoughts on their growing into love
alistair/anora ft alistair's calling bc i love to die
anora packs his bags, fills them with little trinkets, & some of all his favourite foods, warm clothes, strong weapons, and mementos of her.
he plans to set out at full dark, to have a night like any other with his family, in his kingdom, his home, but anora knows him too well
she slips out of their chambers moments after he does, meets him on the road a mile outside the gates. "as if i'd let you ride so far alone" she says, soft on her approach, and he feels he should tell her to turn back, but he wants her to stay
all these years she's kissed the nightmares from his sweatsoaked forehead on long nights when the blight roared too loudly within him
"i was a fool to think of making the journey without you" he tells her. she nods, even smiles. "you always were a fool without me"
they ride as slowly as he can bear, and they fill the night and then the dawn and day with little reminders, that life has been good.
they sleep under the stars, in the woods, in each other's arms. anora holds him a bit too tightly, her only tell that she's afraid to let go
but they reach the deep roads anyway, eventually, too soon, and she kisses him, touches him, running her hands over each shoulder, his arms, his back, everywhere, one last moment for her hands to try and commit every inch of him to memory before he's gone from them forever. he's so warm she thinks she'll be cold the rest of her life
somehow they break apart, say one last i love you. they're both so bad at goodbyes & letting go. she stays until the darkness drowns him from view, watching his back retreating, pleading for him to turn back to her, praying he doesn't. she knows he's thinking the same thing. the calling is inescapable, but love is its own calling.
she rides the entire way home in silence, stops only once to sleep, brief, fitful, alone. when she arrives, she braids her hair, long and golden, memories of his fingers running through it, he always loved her hair, in a single plait down her back, takes a belt knife he left, still in its place near their bed, a place he'l never rest again, never undress, never speak or lay in silence, never again. she takes the knife in one hand, her hair in the other, and cuts it of short.
she never fades or falters in her duty or strength. she keeps his warmth alive as best she can. but she just can't bring herself to sleep in the bed they shared.
6 days after he goes, zevran & leliana appear at court together. they bear no condolences, no more useless pity. but they bring stories
she never knew any of them all that well. alistair kept his old friends, but it was impossible to keep them closely. still, it's a comfort
all these years, and she doesn't have to lay awake, missing him alone, still in love with a shadow swallowed up in the darkness - they loved him too, she isn't the only one whose lost something, she doesn't have to be alone in this, his friends keep parts of him in their hearts too. as does his kingdom. in time, grief fades, but the life they had together never does
"life always burns too fast and bright," zevran tells her, distant sparkle in his eyes, "to truly have known love, it becomes its own eternity, you love them as much as you can in the time you have, & share your lives while fate allows. and when you lose them, some part never leaves"
she never rules their kingdom alone. in her heart he still occupies the throne beside her. in her head his words still whisper, jokes and endearments and advice and shared counsel, shared love, shared lives.
she would have never imagined loving someone so entirely.
she ages with grace, without him by her side, sees him in her dreams.
she keeps going.
it's all you can do. you live fully, with strength, with hope, with love and compassion, and you remember, but you don't linger in the past. he wouldn't want her to let his ghost make her cold, she knows, so she wraps herself in it like a cloak, like armour, warm and strong, and she keeps going.
someday she'll rest in a grave marked with both their names, and with time legends will forget their bodies were not laid there together, and she'll have red roses planted there, the take root in their memory, to bloom with all the blood and beauty they knew together, forever.
alistair/anora manifesto part 1
the somewhat short and introductory version