Alistair (Theirin) (
fatherlesskind) wrote2015-11-28 09:49 am
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So this is Alistair speaking, you know, in case you somehow don't recognise the sound of my voice even though you're trying to talk to me. I'm not here or you'd be talking to me and not hearing this. You can leave me a message or share any juicy gossip or embarrassing secrets on this thing and I'll answer you or tell everyone I know when I find it. Maybe. Or maybe I won't because I don't want to talk to you and I'm really sitting here listening to you and laughing and just pretending not to be here, you'll never know! You should definitely share those embarrassing secrets though. I wouldn't tell everyone - just a few people and- *BEEP*
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Really? Because that sounds a lot like this mage I know and I'd describe him as loud and annoying. And full of himself. Weird too.
[Balling up one of his rags he throws it ineffectually at Anders' head and grins.]
Buuut I guess you-you is alright. Better than some people I've met. Definitely my second favourite mage of all.
[Someone has to keep that ego of yours under control Anders.]
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[Rude, Alistair. He's at least no more of a bigmouth than Alistair himself is, and one could easily chalk that up to imitation being the sincerest form of flattery. Who wouldn't want to take after Ferelden's king?
(Aside from everyone who hates the new king, that is, though Anders doesn't count among them.)
He leans out of the rag's trajectory and catches it out of the air to toss it back at Alistair's feet.]
Well, so long as I have your approval I won't worry.
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At least they won't be short of things to talk about since Anders really is as charmingly talkative as Alistair himself. Maybe. But somehow he's willing to bet that Anders was like that long before he met the Alistair he knows so it's not something that can be blamed on him thank you.]
You do. So no changing anything, got it? [By, say, getting possessed.] I can say it's a royal decree if that helps. If you do it means I get to punish you - I'll make you wash Oghren's feet every day for a year.
[That should be enough to dissuade anyone.]
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Then again, maybe the solitude's getting to him more than he thought. Alistair all but insists he's fine the way he is and he smiles without really intending to, small and soft. He's turning into a sap at this rate. It's a strangely touching sentiment, being told not to do something that could take away part of what he is and replace it with something different.
For so long he's been thinking he should change, make an effort to fill in the gaps Justice hadn't been shy about pointing out in that abrasive, bare-faced honest way of his. Be a better person and a better mage, whatever that means. But when was the last time someone had said he was all right the way he is? Nothing comes to mind. The holes have always been there, waiting for others to advise they be shored up. Marks have always been fallen short of. He's the wasted potential guy, the work in progress, not the fine as is guy.
It means something now to hear it, even if Anders still needs time to think about just what change means for his present as well as for the future.]
When you put it that way... [The smile inches toward being genuinely flattered.] I don't think you need to worry about winning over difficult royals with talk like that. You're a regular charmer. Minus the dwarf feet. That's just mean.
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Anders please. Don't talk about drought conditions around the virgin.Alistair gets the feeling he's missing something. Not that he wasn't serious - he likes Anders exactly how he is and would rather that not change. Even if they had proof that the other Anders that did the terrible things certain people remember is someone else entirely, he'd be against anything that might make his friend someone else.
Plus. Possession. No.
Although maybe he has some idea why his fellow Warden is looking at him like that. He doesn't know all of Anders' story but he does know what it like to be inconvenient and unwanted. And what it had meant when Duncan chose to recruit him out of all the other templars. The Wardens have a habit of picking up those who don't fit anywhere else and giving them a home. That sense of kinship is something he still misses at times and he can't be the only one here in Wonderland to feel that way.]
Just making it clear that I'm serious. I'd hate for you to lose this mage you're so in love with. That would be tragic. [And he's a sucker for a good love story.] But just so you know, if we are having a sleepover I'm calling dibs on the bed.
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[The thank you is implied, but never quite rises past his throat. He has a difficult enough time addressing what draws him to Justice or even contemplating the crimes he and Justice are allegedly responsible for--talking about them more than once in a single afternoon is an utterly exhausting prospect.
He doubts Alistair is complaining. It's a lot to lay on a man when that man has only Anders' word to go by in all of this.]
You mean you weren't offering it to me earlier? [A pointed look down at the seat he's occupying.] But I'm already comfortable.
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Anders moving isn't though, no matter how comfortable he might be.]
Too bad. I'm not sleeping on the floor. It's my bed. [The rag gets retrieved for another doomed attempt to hit Anders in the head with it in reproach.] Don't make me move you.
[Or try. That might get embarrassing for one of them. And not necessarily the one whose name rhymes with slanders.]
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You have a strange attraction to throwing things. Too bad you weren't a mage--you could get away with throwing all sorts of things in the name of scholarly enterprise.
[He sighs as if the very thought of having to move tires him down to his very soul. All right, all right, if he insists.]
Fine, have your bed. You need more beauty sleep than I do. [He stands.] I should be off, besides.
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You should be glad I'm not throwing anything worse at you.
[Like some of the grenades he's seen his companions toss about. Mostly not at him.]
Also, ow! [That's just hurtful. It's definitely time for Anders to go if he's going to say things like that. Getting to his feet as well, Alistair walks him to the door.] I'll remember that the next time you ask me for anything. After I cry myself to sleep tonight.
[He hopes Anders feels bad about that.]
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I said you need more than I do, I didn't say how much. You're still pretty.
[But he should really go--daylight's burning and he's taken up enough time with this. But he remains grateful in the ways Anders knows how to express such things. That much is clear when he reaches the door and turns with another smile that puts his appreciation on display.]
Thanks again--really, I mean that. I'm used to things being a mess but this is one that exceeds my wildest dreams. You didn't have to listen me do a rendition of all of my problems, but you did.