character: alistiar theirin


Morrigan: What are you?
An idiot sandwich…

: …And if you had not been recruited? What would have happened, instead?

: I would have turned into a drooling lunatic, slaughtered the grand cleric and run through the streets of Denerim in my small clothes, I guess.

: Your self-awareness does you credit.

: I thought you’d like that.

Alistair: @blackbelttyler
Morrigan: @naipodcosplay (myself)
Photographer: @darklilies

The Longest Night

@daraasum @shadowphoenixrider

Squire!Alistair AU 


Not soldiers, it was an army but not soldiers.

It was something unearthly, unsettling seemed as though it was crawling over her skin and up into her ears to poke around her head.

It was writhing

Stone, great stone walls but they seemed wrong somehow

The marching continued stronger, seemed to be in her chest.


A roar that seemed to shake her bones

The marching didn’t stop, marching and writhing, marching and writhing…

A great dragon…

Keep reading

The Innocent Things

Hah if you people thought I was done with the Dragon Age spam you were sorely mistaken. Here’s my first venture into attempting to write my Warden and Alistair. Hopefully I haven’t botched either of them too badly. 

Title: The Innocent Things

Summary: Alistair and Baraneth Cousland function on an understanding of sarcasm and wit. When wit fades to sincerity with a single rose feelings are brought into light. Underneath their shields of snark the hope that emotions could run deeper than face value is fostered.  

Warnings: Spoilers for Alistair’s romance. That’s about it. 

Cross Posted to here

**Most of Alistiar’s dialogue is from the game. Bara’s is not, and Alistair’s at the end is not. 


“Alistair.” Baraneth greeted, glancing over her shoulder as Alistair made his way towards her and her mabari hound. She stood, shooing Ailwife away when she noticed he was holding something. Tilting her head she opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he beat her to it.

“Hey, look at this. Do you know what it is?”

`He held out his hand, revealing a cut rose. The petals were still vibrant, beautiful with pale alabaster fading into a deep pink. She thought for a second, tapping her finger on her chin. “Let me guess, you’re new weapon of choice?”

“Yes, that’s right. Watch in awe as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements!” He mimed fighting with a sword with his free hand. “Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!” He breathed in deeply and exhaled with a laugh, eyes dancing. “Or, you know, it could just be a rose. I know that’s pretty dull in comparison.”

“And here I thought you were planning end the blight with your new army of thorny soldiers.” Baraneth grinned, laughter fading off as she looked at it again. Curiosity sparked and she raised an eyebrow..“Where’d you find a rose out here?”

“I didn’t.” Alistair sobered as well, following her eyes down to the flower. He held it carefully, as though it might shatter. “I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, ‘How could something so beautiful exist in a place with such despair and ugliness.’” He shrugged. “I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn’t. The darkspawn would have just come and their taint would have destroyed it. So I’ve kept it since.”

“That’s a nice sentiment.” Baraneth reached out, lightly brushing a finger across the velvety petals. She drew her hand back when he cleared his throat.
“I thought that I might..give it to you. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you.” He placed it in her hand, closing her fingers gently around it avoid the thorns.

She blinked, mouth parted slightly with the beginning of a retort that never fell. Since the beginning their conversations had been built on banter and wit, with any implications of something more buried deep enough that if things were to go awry they could be written off as nothing. Such outright sincerity, such sentiment, was bold. “You see me as a gentle flower?” She choked out with a huff of breath that had meant to be a laugh. It came out strangled instead.

“A gentle flower?” His laugh put her back at ease, breaking down the surprise that had frozen her in place.  “No…I don’t think I’d put it that way.” He pulled his hand away from hers, brows drawing in. “I guess it’s a bit silly, isn’t it? I just thought…here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven’t exactly been having a good time of it yourself.” He frowned and took a step away from her. Baraneth wanted to close the distance again, but kept her feet rooted to the ground, her fingers still closed around the stem of the rose the way Alistair had folded her fingers around it. “You’ve had none of the good experience of being a Grey Warden since you’re Joining, not a word of thanks or congratulations. It’s been all death and tragedy.”

“That’s been the theme of the past few weeks.” What was meant as a joke came out flat and Baraneth muttered a swear. “That’s not what I meant-”

“I thought I could say something.” Their words tripped over each other and she stumbled to silence, motioning for Alistair to continue. “Er…tell you what a rare and wonderful thing to find amidst all this darkness.” His eyes widened as soon as the last word left his mouth. “I’m sorry, I did this on impulse..”

“It’s alright.” Baraneth twirled rose between her fingers, biting her lip as she felt a blush creeping into her cheeks. “It’s actually…incredibly sweet. Thank you.”

When she met his eyes he was smiling, the kind of eyes gleaming, full faced smile that bought a shy one in return. “I’m glad you like it. Now..if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, I’d appreciate it.”

Alistair!” Baraneth gasped, barking out a surprised laugh, feeling her cheeks flaming. After a breath she narrowed her eyes, tsk-ing. “And you were doing so well, too.”

“Oh? Your loss then. All the ladies go on and on about how suave I am. I don’t know how you can resist me like you do.”

“You don’t know what I go on and on about with the other ladies here.”

“Ah yes, I can just picture you and Morrigan, braiding each others hair and talking about–you know what, never mind.”

“Keep digging yourself into that hole, I’m sure it’ll go well.” Baraneth huffed. “Well I’ve kind of botched this haven’t I, turned you’re sweet gesture in a joke.” She went to lay her hand on his shoulder, settling on his forearm instead when she realized she would have to stand on her toes to reach his shoulder. She didn’t want to let his bashful gesture burn in the wake of her bumbling reaction. “So let’s try this again; this was incredibly sweet, thank you. And I, uh, think the same, about the wonderful thing in the darkness. About you of course, I’m not that self absorbed.” She closed her eyes, lips thinning into a line as she shook her head. “Damnit that still didn’t come out right.”

Alistair’s hand settled over hers and she opened her eyes to meet his again. “Don’t strain yourself too much. Though you are cute when you’re bashful and flustered.”

“Oh pssh, there you go again, this is why we can’t have a serious conversation.”  

“I was the serious one before you were.”

“And I was too, about you. How I see you.” Her eyes drifted down to their hands, his still covering her’s.

“See? Serious conversation.” Her exasperated grumble was met with a chuckle. “It’s how we function, a mutual state of being. I still understand you.” He drew his hand away. “I’ll leave you for the night, keep the rose.”

Baraneth bit her lip again as he turned and retreated back towards the fire and tents. “Goodnight, Alistair.” she called.

The corners of her lips quirked up again as she waited for his reply, her fingers playing with the rose’s petals.

“Goodnight you gentle, eloquent flower.”



So, we know that all Grey Wardens eventually turn into ghouls if they live long enough.  It’s a consequence of the taint in their blood.

But what if Alistair and the Warden become something different when they’re Called?

Alistair has Maric’s super special dragon blood and may also have inherited Fiona’s resistance to the taint.  The Warden was exposed to Urthemiel’s soul lightshow and may have also ingested Avernus’ questionable taint enhancement potion.  A lot of things could go horribly awry.

For instance?

Eventually the time comes for their Calling.  They head from Denerim to Orzammar, mobbed by grateful crowds all the way, and then disappear into the dark.  History says that they die in the Deep Roads but the legends tell a different story; they insist, against all logic, that the great heroes of Ferelden could not possibly be defeated by mere Darkspawn, and that they are waiting to return in the country’s hour of need. 

And the legends aren’t wrong.

Sometimes Dwarven scouting parties come across areas of the Deep Roads that even the Darkpawn refuse to venture into.  Areas too dark and deep for any mortal creature to brave.  Those who survive the encounter speak of a man with horns and scales, or a woman with slit pupils and sharp fangs.

Alistair and Dog

Whenever Alistair sleeps in the same tent as the Warden, he always ends up sleeping in the grass. When he wakes up, the first thing he sees is Dog looking over at him in disgust.

“You aren’t allowed to sleep next to her.” he seems to say. Alistair just deals with it, she loves that dog too much for him to complain anyway.

When they go on missions together, sometimes Alistair walks beside her to hold hands. Of course Dog does’t like anyone touching his master, so if he is along with them, he’ll wedge his way between them. The Warden laughs, a sweet lilting chime. It makes Alistair’s heart skip a beat, but he still glares at Dog.

Huddled around the fire, Leliana sings an Orlesian tune as the Warden cuddles up to Alistair. He puts his arm around her, finally glad to have a moment’s peace to be with her. Her hair is soft as he kisses it lightly. As he moves to capture her lips he feels a large canine jump up onto his lap, knocking the breath out of him.

It’s true, Alistair and Dog had never quite gotten along when the Warden was concerned.

Her last words to him were “You be good now, you hear?” and when the battle was over, Dog only saw Alistair, broken and defeated walking towards him.

Dog whined and put his head against Alistair’s hand, asking him where the Warden was. Alistair just patted his head and collapsed against a ruined building, and buried his head in his hands.

Alistair and Dog never got along, but after the Warden died to end the Blight, they finally did.