@swordandsorrow did not ask for this AND YET
It’s all a bunch of words, isn’t it?
Traitor, bastard,Warden, hero,
K I N G
It’s ten years gone and Alistair remembers the shock he felt at the first accusations coming from Loghain. ( Shock was a good word for the first month of the Blight. He got better. They all did. ) Traitor. He loved nothing more than his country. Than Eamon, the father he never had.
His brother’s wife’s father... oh, that was kind of messy and incestuous, wasn’t it? Royalty- they were like that. ( Shaw had told him once that’s why bastards were needed. To keep them all from marrying their cousins. That’s before Shaw knew he was a a noble, too, before Alistair pulled him from his duty at the Vigil and back to him. Selfish, yes, but he was the king. If that’s the extent of his selfishness then he would be on par with the paragons of the dwarves. ) Loghain was a hero, a traitor, a would be king, and now dead.
( Dead made sense, at least. )
“You know...” Always that sense of humor, the lilt to this voice. “I was once called traitor.”
The boy- man- agent- taller than him and as deadly serious as the Hero of Ferelden at their worst, despite his best efforts to remain ineffectual. ( It was the casual statement of being willing to commit treason, if it was the right thing to do. Alistair’s actions had been condemned as treason during the most pivotal time of the age. The Boy had chosen right to whom he’d admit to this- - king, Warden, hero, bastard, traitor. )
“Worked out well for everyone, I think. Except maybe Loghain- - but he started it.”