When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Issue

When the Landsmeet had been formally adjourned, Alistair and Una were surrounded by well-wishers and people questioning them about their intentions and their plans for the future. Alistair felt overwhelmed by it all and was beginning to resort to witty one-liners meant to put off the questioners and make them go away ... until he remembered that these people had chosen him over Loghain, when he was an unknown quantity distinguished only by the Theirin blood that ran in his veins. He was sick of being defined by that blood; he wanted people to see him as Alistair, not as Maric's bastard, and if he wanted that, Alistair was going to have to have some things to say that people wanted to hear.

So he took a deep breath and tackled the next question to reach his ears, an older man's concern about the recovery of the farmlands in the Bannorn after the Blight. Fortunately, this happened to be something Alistair had given a lot of thought to as he walked the roads of Ferelden looking at the blighted land left behind by the darkspawn, so he was able to speak intelligently on the topic. And as he spoke, something strange happened—people near him quieted and started to listen to what he had to say. To date, only Una had ever stopped to listen to him. Was this what being King was about? Having his opinions listened to and thought about? It was an exhilarating thought—and a frightening thought. If people were going to listen to him, he'd better make sure that what he said had some value.

Una hung back, answering the occasional question herself, but deferring to Alistair as much as possible. She was proud of him for having successfully fought back his tendency to hide from responsibility by deflecting it with humor and self-deprecation, and she was more confident than ever that the decision to put him on the throne would turn out to be the right one for Ferelden.

Eventually they managed to extricate themselves from the nobles of the Landsmeet in order to return to Eamon's residence and inform the rest of their team of what had occurred—assuming they hadn't already heard. Rumors flew fast in Denerim, and already there were people surrounding them, flocking to see their new king.

Eamon kept up with Alistair, talking a blue streak about plans and schemes and schedules and all sorts of things Alistair couldn't follow, still overwhelmed by the events of the day. Finally he couldn't take it anymore, and he stopped in the middle of the street. "Arl Eamon, could we let this all wait? The coronation isn't until tomorrow, and the priority even after that is still the war against the darkspawn."

"My dear boy, you are still thinking like a Grey Warden," the Arl objected.

"I still am a Grey Warden, and my focus is on the Blight. As—as King," he said, struggling to get the word out, still feeling a little funny applying it to himself, "that should also be my focus. Whatever political machinations might go on here, they are valueless if the Archdemon is still free to terrorize the country."

"I suppose you have a point," Eamon conceded. "We can talk tomorrow after the coronation."

"Thank you." Alistair looked around for Una, but couldn't see her. She must have gone on ahead to the estate while he and Arl Eamon were talking. He didn't mind, for a change. He needed to think, to sit down somewhere alone and get it all straight in his head.

As soon as they reached the estate, he did just that, finding himself a corner of the pantry and a big wheel of cheese, trying to work through everything that had happened and everything that he wanted and what his duty was to his people now and how that all fit in with being a Grey Warden. It was a lot to take in, and a lot of decisions to make quickly and decisively—which wasn't at all his strong suit.

When at last he emerged from the pantry, he felt better, if still a bit dazed, and he wanted nothing more than to find his room and go into it and close the door and hold Una in his arms, taking comfort from her strength and her support and her love. But even that had its pitfalls ... there were so many reasons why they might have to rethink their plans to marry.