One | Fate Emptied of Hope

[nobroth]

WHO: Alistair Theirin
WHERE: Fountain Square/Inn
WHEN: Dec 27, Evening
OPEN TO: One at the fountain (Claimed by Zev), OTA at the Inn, per usual.
WARNINGS: None - will edit if any occur.

---

'Cross Veil and into the valley of dreams:

"Very funny," came the voice from near the fountain. Dripping wet and cold, Alistair looked challengingly up at the sky, arms held out to either side. "But I don't know how you thought I'd fall for this! This isn't Redcliffe," he called. "And it's definitely not Denerim or Kirkwall or Wycome. It's not any of those tiny towns in Orlais. I've never seen this place before, so it's not my memory, cheater!"

Bending down, he picked up the first thing he saw - oh, a rock, that'll help - and threw it upward, not really noticing where it went. He heard it fall on the ground somewhere, but that was neither here nor there. It was proof he'd thrown it the wrong way, if anything.

"I don't trust you, Nightmare!" More agitated, he started to look for another rock. Another anything. "Or is this some Despair Demon's work? Encroaching on your territory now that you lost the Inquisitor? Well tough luck to you both - I'm not afraid anymore, and there's nothing left for me to Despair over. I might be the Maker's own idiot, but I'm not going to trust this illusion!"

Where had his sword gone. His shield, his armour. Which direction was the damned Nightmare?! He couldn't fight the damned thing if he couldn't see it, and he couldn't see it. Anywhere. Whatever Demon it was fueling this illusion, it was better than any he'd fought through yet, and he didn't want to think about what that meant.

---

In ignorance stumbling:

There was a good fire burning, and that was nice. Really, the place was nicer than roughly every other inn he'd ever seen, including the Hanged Man -- Well, honestly, it far surpassed the Hanged Man, the Pearl, definitely the Spoiled Princess. Places with names he couldn't remember because all he'd been concerned about was finding the bottom of his mug and then having another.

No such luck here, not that he minded. He'd had years to leave that particular vice behind, not that it had been a kind one while he'd had it. But at least now he was warm, dry, and, though confused, knew a few things for certain: There was food, there was shelter, and there was a chance - at least something of a chance - that this wasn't the Fade.

As he stood by the fire, pleasantly toasting himself, he realised he had a lot to think about. And that thought made his head hurt. Nose wrinkled, Alistair rubbed at his temples, muttering a quiet, "Ow."

Comments

[clouded_heart]

Foggy's smile fades a bit. "Yeah, not a big fan of the corporal punishment, myself. A smack on the butt was about the worst we got."

[nobroth]

"I wish our Chantry sisters and Revered Mothers had been so gentle," he exhaled, shaking his head. "I think my knuckles were bruised the whole time I was in the monastery."

[clouded_heart]

"... orphan?"

[nobroth]

"Yep," he answered with an exhale. "Mother died in childbirth. Father just... never bothered to acknowledge I existed. Kennels to monastery to Wardens."

[clouded_heart]

"I'm sorry," Foggy offers, and means it. He knows what orphaning does to people. Did to Matt. And what his family means to him. "I have no idea what you mean by kennels or Wardens, but please tell me they didn't literally raise you alongside dogs."

[nobroth]

"Until I was eight," he said. "From the time I was about... five, I think. I was young; it's blurry." And he waved it off. "I still don't like dogs, though."

[clouded_heart]

"Jesus."

He sets aside his whetstone and knife. "Can I hug you? I feel a really strong need to hug you right now."

[nobroth]

He blinked. "Uhm. All right, I mean. A hug won't hurt anything. ...I'm guessing that's not something that's done in New York." Which, well, kennel boys were pretty well known in ... most parts of Thedas.

[clouded_heart]

Foggy hugs Alistair. he hugs him like he hugs Matt, like maybe one decent, good hug will make up for some of the shittiness that had crapped over Alistair's life.

[nobroth]

A hug is...

A hug is pretty wonderful, honestly, and when he feels the sincerity of it, Alistair can't help but hug back. He's solidly built, when it comes down to it - a strongman instead of a bodybuilder, muscle meant to hold heavy armour and huge shields, to swing a sword almost as tall as him without tiring out. And that means he can give as good a hug as he gets.

And when it's done, he's smiling a little. And he says, quietly, "Thank you."

[clouded_heart]

Foggy isn't a strong guy. He's arguably carrying a little more softness than is ideal to some people. But he gives sincere, big, warm hugs.

"You're welcome. Thanks for indulging me."

[nobroth]

"You know." He took a breath and exhaled it easily. "First thing I thought when I saw you is that you've got the face of a good person. And I'm glad I was right."

[clouded_heart]

Foggy gives a sheepish smile. "I- try? I'm not always, so I do my best." He's aware that he's probably a bit selfish to be really good.

[nobroth]

But Alistair prodded his shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short. You were just kind to a total stranger. That's a pretty great thing to do."

[clouded_heart]

Foggy sways with the poke and bumps his shoulder back into Alistair's finger. "Well, we're all stuck here together, aren't we? And you just told me your tragic origin story, that counts at least a little for knowing someone, right?"

[nobroth]

Tragic origin story? He had to stifle a laugh at that. "Well, yeah. To me, I guess I'm just... used to everybody knowing. Or making up their own stories - that happens, too."

[clouded_heart]

"Sometimes, a made up history is much more palatable to other people. And yourself."

[nobroth]

"Mm." He shrugged. "Unfortunately, I lived it, so I know the truth a little too well. I also know how much of a grand idiot I am, so I can't quite delude myself into a happy story. So I'll... just take what I have and be happy with it, you know? It could be worse. You're not a giant Fade spider, the sky's not green, and everything's not vaguely damp and dripping."

[clouded_heart]

"..." that seems weirdly specific. Worryingly so. "You're right," Foggy agrees carefully. "Those three things are not happening, so yay for that."

[nobroth]

Alistair watched him while he tried to process that and ended up chuckling. "Be glad you're from a world where you don't understand any of that."

[clouded_heart]

"I am very glad I don't understand any of that," he agrees. "It doesn't sound great."

[nobroth]

"It really isn't." But then, shaking his head, he said, "I've really brought the mood down. Sorry."

[clouded_heart]

"Don't be," Foggy says softly. "It's something that's clearly weighing on you."

[nobroth]

True enough. Alistair lifted a shoulder. "After you've been fighting to stay alive for a few years, yeah, everything tends to go a little dark even when you don't mean it to."

[clouded_heart]

"I... would imagine so?" It's not something that has ever been or is ever likely to be an issue for Foggy. Except, maybe, here.