[Drabble] Crowned
Title: Crowned
Author: kryss_delrhei
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Type: Video Game
Characters/Pairing: Alistair/Solona, Arl Eamon, Bann Teagan
Word Count: 620
Genre: General
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: With his arms empty without her, Alistair takes his new role with a force she would have wanted him to.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age nor the characters, just borrowing them from BioWare for a little while.
Author's Notes: An obsession of mine. I don’t think it’ll end.
Prompt: a_writing_muse : #01 - Crown : Table 10-A
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The charming, young man stood nervously on the carpeted steps, shifting uncomfortably in his golden ceremonial armor, an inheritance that was stricken with pain and power. He dragged his gloved hand through his sandy brown locks, uncaring that he ruffled the once perfectly coiffed hair. He lowered his golden helm, the purple plume draping over his arm.
The thrown room was in an uproar with unabashed joy, shouts of victory, the Blight had been quelled, the Archdemon lay dead atop Fort Drakon. A year of struggle against the darkspawn, a year of civil war against a once great war hero, all ended.
For once, he felt like it was he who the crowd screamed for - and it was.
But he knew it shouldn’t have been for him…
Solona…
The adolescent nation of Ferelden was saved, though not without great sacrifice.
"Alistair! This is my duty!”
The ache of longing stabbed horribly at his heart. A Grey Warden’s duty… he could have scoffed, but he knew if she had allowed him, it would have been him taking that final blow.
“Be the King that I know you will be…”
Alistair’s veneer hardened as Arl Eamon raised his hands, the crowd quieting to a hushed roar.
Excitement.
Joy.
Pain.
Loneliness.
The nation would only know her as ‘The Hero of Ferelden’. They would never hear her sweet and tender voice nor would they walk in her presence.
“The final blow is mine. I won‘t let you, you know that.”
He’d never get another chance to brush her chestnut locks away from her cheek.
“… Live for me…”
Never gaze into her heady blue eyes.
“… Live for Ferelden…”
Never feel her lips against his.
“ … I truly… love you… Alistair…”
Arl Eamon’s voice was distant as he spoke to the nobles and servants and commoners that filled the throne room. The cheers of vibrant enjoyment droned on.
“I couldn’t trust her. The risks are too high.”
He was startled out of his thoughts as Bann Teagan clamped a strong hand onto his shoulder. Alistair glanced at him to find the man grinning and motioning to his older brother. The crowd had quieted even more, hushed that maybe he’d decided to not take his place.
Though he didn’t feel like it was his choice, nor his place, he still walked from Bann Teagan and climbed the rest of the stairs. Arl Eamon’s eyes glazed with happiness as he took Alistair’s golden helm from him.
“As the youngest son of our great King Maric… the Landsmeet has declared Alistair as Ferelden’s new King!” Eamon spoke with such conviction that it was impossible to not feel the surge of victory well up in him as it did within the crowd, who burst out with renewed vigor.
“You’re so special, Ferelden will see that… just as I have…”
The crown was heavy, the gold ring weighing down on his head with so much responsibility. Alistair’s breath grew short as he steeled his veneer even harder. Eamon pulled away as one of the Revered Mothers raised her hands in blessed praise from the Maker.
His eyes misted as he turned and gazed out over the crowd, his companions among them, all smiling and cheering for him just as much as the nation itself did. Though the room was filled, his soul rang out empty for the love that he knew couldn’t be returned to him. Alistair inhaled sharply through his nose, clenching his teeth as he pulled his sword from its sheath, pointing it above his head as high as he could reach.
The crowd exploded in more cheers and cries of exhilaration.
Under his breath, he breathed, “I do this for you, my love.”
Cross-Posted to: swooping_is_bad, a_writing_muse, circle_tower