002; action;

[theirinurpants]

Who: Alistair and anyone who wants to get shitfaced.
Broadcast: Nope.
Action: Varric's bar on the Iskaulit.
When: Tonight. All night. PONY UP.
WARNING: Depending on how conversations go, drunk!Alistair may make vague references to child neglect/abuse, or possibly dubiously consensual sex. Other topics might include violence and extreme daddy issues. Let me know if you want me to specifically avoid any of that!

[ For all intents and purposes, Alistair feels utterly alone. Sure, there are several people in the fleet who know him, but he doesn't seem to know any of them, and so it's weird. And if he's being honest with himself, he was feeling pretty lonely well before he got here. All of the friends he made during the Blight, when they were all on the road together, pretty much left after it ended, after his coronation. Even Amell ran off somewhere with Leliana, leaving him to the tender mercies of his uncle, his late brother's widow, and the rest of the Fereldan nobility.

He's been keeping up a cheerful face - he doesn't really know how to do anything else - but what with being here, learning about things he probably shouldn't have learned about, and having a little bit of money from - somewhere, he's finally just. Showed up to the bar. Varric's is the closest thing to familiar he can find, so he's drinking whatever ale his money can buy. And he's not stopping until the money runs out or he is insensible on the floor. ]

Another. Please.

Comments

[theirinurpants]

I could never live up to him. It doesn't matter what I do, or how long I rule.

[ Ugh. He polishes off his drink and orders another. ]

He booted the Orlesians out after almost a hundred years! He won a rebellion and reclaimed his rightful throne! He was, you know. The Great King Maric.

[ And Alistair never met him, not once. ]

[percolates]

[And she hasn't even touched her drink. She's far too busy watching him, an elbow resting on the bar. Poor fellow.]

Perhaps you're being a touch... [drunk] over-dramatic.

[theirinurpants]

Who knows? Half the court thinks I'm not even his son. As if I'd want to be his bastard.

...Funnily enough, I think Anora believes it.

[percolates]

And Anora is...?

[theirinurpants]

My fiancee.

[ He is not terribly happy about being engaged, either. ]

[percolates]

I see. [He sounds thrilled.] Out of necessity, I presume.

[theirinurpants]

She was married to my half-brother. Then he died, and civil war was going to break out, in the middle of a Blight. There wasn't much else to do. She was already queen. She has lots of supporters. But I'm the only Theirin left.

[ So, yeah, a political marriage. ]

[percolates]

[A political marriage, complicated father things, no mother--sounds like a fun time.]

I'm sorry to hear that. All of it.

[theirinurpants]

Yeah, well, now I'm here, and I've got enough money to drink until I forget about all of it, so hey! It's all right, really.

[ He eyes her for a moment. ]

You'll drink with me, right?

[percolates]

[A nod.]

I've nowhere better to be.

[And it'd be so much sadder if he were drinking alone.]

I can relate to your story, in some parts. I'm the heiress to a throne though I do not think I will ever claim it for my own. It's not what I want.

[But what she wants usually seems to matter little.]

[theirinurpants]

Oh.

[ That's... surprisingly helpful, actually. To learn that about her. ]

Well, good. I mean, if it's not what you want, then don't. Take it from me.

[percolates]

I want nothing more than to live my own life. As I want, as I see fit. You had no way out?

[theirinurpants]

I let myself get talked into it. I mean, they made good points! I am the last Theirin. Except for when the Orlesians invaded, all the kings and queens of Ferelden have been Theirins, all the way back to Calenhad the Great who united the country for the first time.

...but I wouldn't tell anyone else to do what I did.

[percolates]

[How did anyone think that was a good idea.]

Certainly. At least as it stands, with no kingdoms here in space, we are neither kings nor princesses.

[theirinurpants]

[ Kings and queens are hereditary, that's just the way things are, DUH! ]

Yeah, and there aren't any darkspawn to kill, either.

[ So he's drinking. ]

[percolates]

[Nah man just get your dad to find a person that looks similar enough to you! No one will know the difference.]

So you're planning on drinking yourself into oblivion? And then what, once your stomach is empty and your head stops spinning? Will you feel better?

[theirinurpants]

Well no, I won't feel better then. But if I can drink myself into a stupor I won't have to think about it for a few hours, will I?

[percolates]

His majesty makes a valid point. [Said in jest, and she reaches over to give him a friendly clap on the shoulder.]

What ship are you on?

[theirinurpants]

It's called the Starstruck. Which one are you on?

[percolates]

The First Breath. I'll make sure you return to your ship when you're done here. [Designated... walker.]

[theirinurpants]

Oh. Thanks. Honestly I don't think they'd miss me all that much. Except maybe the captain, she seemed pretty happy I was there...

[percolates]

Even so, you don't want to sleep on the floor of a bar. That's too pathetic.

[theirinurpants]

Is it? I've never tried it before. I've slept lots of other places, though.

[percolates]

Let's not start. Save it for when you're an old man.

[theirinurpants]

Save what? I probably won't live to be an old man, but... what am I saving?

[ He's a little too drunk to keep following this train of thought, Ciri. ]