I don't like playing a good Grey Warden. It's far more fun to sleep with everyone and make the not so wise decisions. I knew that I had finally beaten my own record when my elven mage had Zevran break it off with her because he felt guilty about "sneaking around behind Alistair's back". (I also wish that there had been an option to tell him "I think Alistair knows. He's may not be the sharpest sword on the rack, but even he's got to have this figured out seeing as we've been doing everything 5 ft. from him...") Needless to say, she saved Loghain, and forced Alistair to marry Anora. I imagine that in comparison, Alistair found Anora to be a welcome relief. This is my imagined correspondence between the mage and Anora.
Congratulations! You're about to be a big sister!
In case you're wondering, no, I'm not the mother. (I personally believe that apothecaries are the best response to pregnancies.) The mother will be Morrigan.
Confused yet? I'll admit that it sounds a bit strange. If it comforts you at all, know that your father did not fall madly in love with the witch-woman, nor become lonely on a bitterly cold evening. No, the reason that you are going to have a younger half-sibling (a sister, I hope! Your father seems convinced that it will be a brother, but I can't see Morrigan willingly giving birth to a boy.) is that I made her sleep with him.
There's sort of a long, involved story here. I'll cut to the chase. Morrigan had a plan that would make it far more probable that I'd survive killing the arch-demon. All that it required was that a newly formed Grey Warden sleep with her and give her a baby that would have the soul of an Old God. What can I say? I like being alive.
Your father was a different matter all together. Just so stubborn. When I brought the plan to him, he was all "no, let me die if someone must, just don't make me consent to this demonic ritual!" But I just couldn't take that chance. I mean, what if he died before we got to the arch-demon, and I had to kill it instead? I'm sure that I'm saying far too much, so just pretended that you didn't hear this from me. The end result is that I ordered him to impregnate her, and according to my reports, whatever Morrigan did worked and she was last seen somewhere around the Frostback Mountains. In a rather loose robe.
I'm still alive, so all is well from my point of view. But you might want to meet your younger sibling. Become friends. Share clothes when she's old enough. Hell, if all works out well between you and Alistair, maybe she can even be your oldest child's best friend. It would be so cute! All "hi kids, let's meet your aunt, a cute little girl who also happens to be an Old God". Don't you think that would be awesome?
Plus, the half-sibling might end up being a security issue one day. I mean, I mostly tuned out anything in mage training that didn't involve learning how to blow things up, but from the bit of history I remember, Old Gods weren't entirely, you know, good. And even if they were, well, I somehow don't see Morrigan as being the best influence. So even if the kid was meant to be a saint, I'd seriously consider an intervention. This is most of why I'm writing to you. It just seems like you should be aware of the possible...complications.
Now, when you consider my part in this, you might be thinking that I should hunt the witch down and deal with this all myself. But I promised not to. And more importantly, would really rather get back to torturing templars. (Thanks again for freeing the mages! I can't wait to make Cullen's worst nightmares come true!) So I'll leave this matter in your capable hands.
Thank you for the news. While I am astonished to hear of it, it is better that I know now so that I can do what I must. I agree that finding the child before he or she can become a nuisance is a wise idea. Although I sincerely wish that when this matter arose, you would have informed me. I would gladly have loaned you Alistair for the occasion. I imagine that Alistair's offspring would be far more pliable. Pity. We will pray that my son or daughter will take after my side of the family. Otherwise, I fear for this country.
Speaking of Maric's son, how do you get Alistair to shut up? I honestly cannot endure another conversation where he asks me about how much I like, or dislike, half the people in the castle. It is giving me a headache. How did you travel with him for so long without resorting to murder?
That said, your advice regarding him was very helpful. You are quite correct in that he likes being told what to do, is eager to please, and is very athletic. If I could just make him be silent for a few minutes, and could mandate that he never whine or pout again, he might well make the perfect husband.
The best advice I can give you regarding Alistair is to just smile and nod. I don't think that anyone actually listens to him. But he will fall madly in love with you (if he isn't already, the poor boy adores anyone who gives him the slightest bit of attention) if you just smile and say "I agree" or "I feel the same way" often enough. When he talks on and on about his feelings, I highly recommend letting your mind drift to more pleasant thoughts. For instance, when he rambled on and on about his childhood, I merrily imagined what it would be like to sleep with all of the party members that I had not yet invited back to my tent. It worked remarkably well. He thought that my smile was due to his charm, and I got to puzzle out Qunari mating habits. (Trust me, your father was a welcome addition to the party in that regard!)
Now, you may occasionally have disagreements with him where this technique will be insufficient. Alistair is so...impractical. He becomes quite upset over the littlest things. My desire to have a golem army. My need to become more powerful using whatever means necessary (hey, the elves were just going to return to that horrible alienage, anyway, right?) My lack of an interest in running all the way back to the tower when we could just kill Isolde right there and be done with it. He may do the same to you when you make some unimportant little decision. So how do you keep him from staring out the window and pouting for longer than absolutely necessary? Toys.
Seriously. Just break the bad news to him, watch him get angry, then hand him something shiny and watch his face light up. I kept an entire set in my bag to smooth things over. But be warned. If he's especially upset, it may take more than one. But this is hardly that great of an inconvenience. Toys are pretty cheap, and you have the entire royal treasury at your disposal.
Your dear friend,
P.S: If you're unsure of what to buy, I'm pretty sure that there's a golem in the Wonders of Thedras that he has his heart set on.
Thank you again for all of the helpful advice. I have already sent Erlinda out to pick up a wide assortment of presents. Alistair has just gotten that much easier to handle! I am also working on following your advice. The last time he started going on and on about whatever he intended to name our first child, I just thought about all the new trade routes I could open up and calculated how quickly I could balance the budget with the taxes on that trade. (Rebuilding a nation is expensive! And I have my heart set on a university!) Those thoughts were...highly appealing. I may return to those thoughts the next time my marital duties come up. Come to think of it, I think that I'll fetch Alistair right now...
Sorry, a bit of an interruption caused me to lose my train of thought. But that same interruption has made me wonder why you decided to get rid of the lad. Certainly he talks too much for anyone's peace of mind, but he has so many other delightful uses.
P.S: How many presents do you think that it will take to convince Alistair that "Loghain" is a good name for our first son?
I'll be blunt. I never saw much in Alistair. I only slept with him for the first time because he offered to break up with Leliana for me. (Honestly, I just couldn't stand another four hour long conversation on her favorite trends in Orlesian footwear.) Then I heard that he was Maric's son, and wondered whether I might be able to use this to my advantage. Unfortunately, he explained that the Landsmeet would never accept an elven mage as queen, at which point I figured that I might as well break it off. And then, as I figured that the mabari would do about as well ruling the kingdom as Alistair, I thought that I'd just marry him to you so that Ferelden wasn't entirely left to whoever felt like taking it. Let it never be said that I am unpatriotic.
Besides, I doubted that Alistair would be a huge fan of me "upgrading" to Loghain. So it seemed just as well to call it quits before I had to buy him a whole toy store to make it up to him or, alternately, endure him whining and pouting.
Incidentally, before I forget, thank you again for freeing the tower. You have no idea how much fun I've been having with Cullen. And Anders has finally gotten tie up his favorite templar for a change. (I think that he's probably done more with her than tie her up, but I stopped listening when he went into the exact details of the manacles he used. I swear that he's more talkative than our new king!) It's so nice to be able to do all of this out in the open now. Furtive trysts in supply closets used to be such a drag! (The templars would bang on the doors telling us to "hurry up and get out!". Now they watch! And sometimes join in! Wee!)
Your best friend forever,
P.S: Your father has asked about your plans for an heir. I believe that the terms he used were "when will that incompetent bastard perform the only duty that can reasonably be expected of him?"
So is that what goes on in the tower? I never knew. Well, that explains so much about the Chantry's opinion of mages...but, no matter.
I did not know that you were still in touch with my father. Send him my regards, and tell him to keep out of my personal life. Out of curiosity, how is he doing?
Your best friend,
Your father is doing quite well. Very well indeed, I might add. The way his dark hair glistens in the moonlight, the way the sweat glistens off his muscles when he does his exercises in the morning. He's in remarkable shape for a man his age. Why, it's enough to make one swear off templars for good!
Your bestest friend in the whole wide world,
Leave my father alone. He is not Maric, and I doubt that he cares much for either elves or mages.
P.S: Even if you should do something inappropriate, such as control him via blood magic or get him really drunk, I do not need to know about it.
P.P.S: You know when I told you about how I didn't mind the idea of marrying Alistair so much after talking to him at Arl Eamon's estate? Well, we "talked" for quite a while. On your bed.