another ao ficlet don’t mind me ✂️
“It’s to keep the peace,” Leliana implored. “There have been uprisings in Circles throughout Thedas since Kirkwall. Intelligence tells us that Anders either took part in, or initiated the explosion at the Chantry. While we haven’t been able to locate Anders, Amell is still a prominent figure here in Ferelden and acts as Anders’ Warden Commander.”
“So just ask him where Anders is,” Alistair said, pacing the length of his office. He was anxious, he was always anxious but he was especially anxious right now. Leliana gave him a pitying look.
“We have. Of course, he won’t tell us—- If he even knows,” she said.
“Then that’s that,” Alistair huffed. “Asked and answered. Move on.”
“You know it is not that simple,” Leliana said gently. “He has a personal connection with Anders. Amell publicly announced his intent to court the man less than a year ago. For all appearances, it implies that he endorses Anders’ actions in Kirkwall, and as he is your Chancellor, by extension, it appears as though the Throne endorses Anders’ actions.”
Alistair snorted humorously, shaking his head. “Don’t we?” Alistair muttered, and then louder said, “Kirkwall is— Was? Is. Was…? Kirkwall is a mess. Maker, red lyrium veins are growing throughout the entire city. People were losing their minds, their Viscount, Whats-His-Name—”
“Hawke,” Leliana supplied politely.
“— was mad! The Knight Commander was mad! Everyone was mad! Kirkwall was a lost cause before all of—” Alistair makes a vague gesture with his hand “—this. That some guy blew up some building barely makes a top ten list of the most shocking things that happened there.”
“But it was not just some building,” Leliana said. “It was a Chantry; and it was not just some guy, it was a mage. Regardless of the state of the city, the Chantry was the seat of power for their Circle. It is so for every Circle. The message Anders sent was clear. It is much too late to downplay what has happened. The significance has already been made apparent, and the Circles are responding in kind. Like it or not, the time to choose sides is upon you.”
“I don’t like it,” Alistair said, if only to make his position known. Leliana smiled at him, a sad smile, a smile that said she understood how difficult this was for him. But she couldn’t know, because she didn’t have all the details.
“To the populous view, Ferelden has been distancing themselves from the Chantry for years,” she explained. “What you have done to the Circles and the asylum you have offered mages and apostates has not gone unnoticed. Not just by the Divine, but by all of Thedas. In this time, the eyes of every other country are on you. Circles are rising, but how other kingdoms, free cities, and provinces will respond might come down to you.”
“Oh, great, thanks for that. No pressure,” Alistair groaned, raking a sweaty hand through his hair.
“It is true, Alistiar,” Leliana said seriously. “Ferelden has started down a path other countries did not know existed. You and Anora have walked a thin line for many years, and it has only grown a more precarious one as you have continued. Eventually, you were going to meet its end. It seems today is the day you must decide which side of that line you will settle on.”
“Maker, Leliana,” Alistair whined. “You’re not helping.”
She shrugged. “It has been many years of relative peace within your country, and the longer Ferelden resists falling to chaos without the Chanty’s guidance, the less it appears the Chantry is needed at all. This is a threat to the Divine.
“You have an influence you do not fully comprehend, but the Divine does. And now, your Chancellor has allied himself with a revolutionary. If Ferelden refuses to unseat him, the Divine will have no choice but to retaliate. She will need to make an example of Ferelden if she is to maintain her control over the rest of Thedas.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck! And shit! And piss! And balls! And every other vulgar word Alistair could come up with. This was a nightmare. Actually, it was worse than a nightmare. Alistair would have gladly taken an Archdemon nightmare over this mess. This was— it was— It was so bad Alistair couldn’t even come up with an analogy for how bad it was.
In a fit, he quit his pacing and threw himself into his chair, burying his face in his hands and then his hands in his hair. Maker. What was he going to do? What could he do? Leliana— the Divine was asking him to do something he couldn’t do. Not like this. Not because of this.
“Alistair,” Leliana prompted when he didn’t respond. “You must give me your answer.”
“I need to think,” he said, muffled from behind his hands.
“There is no more time to think.” she said. Her voice was soft, but he felt no comfort for it. “No answer is an answer.”
“...I can’t do it,” Alistair said miserably. “You can’t ask me to.”
Even if Amell still had his Warden standing, his son and Morrigan didn’t. If Amell lost his station, Alistair wasn’t sure Amell could protect them. Alistair wasn’t even sure Amell could protect himself. Amell was a known necromancer, he was a blood mage with a hundred casting scars littered across his body— it was impossible not to notice. Grey Wardens had a lot of latitude, but even their leeway had its limits and Alistair would bet ‘blood mage’ pushed them. For all he hated Amell, for all he’d threatened him with over the years, Alistair couldn’t actually send Amell back to a Circle. He couldn’t send his son to a Circle. Not with everything he knew was waiting for them.
The whisper of Leliana’s robes alerted Alistair when she stood. Soundlessly, she rounded the table and came to sit beside him, prying his hands from his face and holding them in her own. She ran her thumbs across his knuckles reassuringly. Alistair wished he could find it comforting.
“I can’t do it,” he repeated.
“You must,” she said, and it sounded apologetic but if she was truly sorry, she wouldn’t have been here on behalf of the Divine. Her allegiance was as unmistakable as the robes she wore.
“I won’t do it,” he clarified, pulling his hands from hers gently.
“Alistair—” Leliana started, but he shook his head and stood, moving to the window, needing to put some distance between them. “You will see your country to an Exalted March if you do not. You will be endangering thousands.”
She was right, wasn’t she? He had an obligation to his people, to protect them, and he wouldn’t be protecting them if he let the Divine March on Ferelden. But he couldn’t turn Amell over to the wolves either. A lifetime ago in a dying village on the tailend of a massacre, Alistair promised Amell he’d never let the Templars take him and while a lot had changed, his word hadn’t.
Leliana must have been able to tell what he was thinking.
“I know you were close with Amell, but you can’t risk the lives of your people for him.”
And she was almost right. Except that Amell was his people, just like every mage in Ferelden was his people. Alistair didn’t get to pick and choose which people were his people and which people weren’t his people. The Divide might have thought some of those people were her people, but they weren’t. They were Alistair’s people.
“It’s not for him, it’s for what he represents,” Alistair said slowly, still trying to put his thoughts in order. “He’s a mage, Lel. He’s a mage with titles, and one of the highest ranks in my court.”
“There are other qualified mages you can appoint—”
“And what’s to stop the Divine from bullying that person out of their appointments too if I allow her to do it to Amell? What about the next one? And the next one? And the one after that?” Alistair asked. “Will she have a say in my council next, too? Am I to beg her for the right to seat those I see fit to serve the kingdom? Where does it end, Leliana?
“If the threat of a March is all it takes to intimidate us out of naming good people — good mages — then she proves she still has control over them and still has control over us. And that’s what she wants, isn’t it? It’s about power, isn’t it?” He asked, but didn’t give Leliana time to respond. “It’s not about who or what Amell supports, it’s about proving she still has the authority to have him removed for it.”
Leliana frowned. “Alistair…”
“That’s what it is, isn’t it?” He said. “Amell is a powerful mage, both in politics and magic, and that has been a risk to her status quo for years. This was just an opportunity for her to prove her authority over him. That even with all he’s accomplished, he still only exists by her grace. And if even he can’t get out from under her control, then what hope do the other mages have for autonomy?”
“Alistair,” Leliana said, but she couldn’t tell him he was wrong.
“You said it yourself, other countries are watching us. If she can force me to unseat a powerful mage, it proves she still has Ferelden under control and reinforces that no matter how influential a mage gets, he is never out of her reach. She wants to make an example of him. That’s what all this is for, isn’t it?”
Leliana didn’t respond immediately, so he pressed. “Isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Leliana relented. “But if you do not remove him, she will make a different example.”
