A man is walking on the highway
A woman stares out at the sea
And light is only now just breaking
So we carry every sadness with us
Every hour our hearts were broken
Every night the fear and darkness
Lay down with us
Alistair couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief as their small company left the ancient and heavy doors of Orzammar behind them. Zevran chuckled beside him and the knight slanted a look down at the elf. "I'm that obvious?" The ex-templar smiled slightly, "I'd hate for the dwarves to think I found their accomdations or lifestyle lacking."
"I do not think our new dwarven allies care overmuch for the opinion of those who are not dwarves." Zevran grinned. "And to one who knows nothing of your character, your relief would not be readily apparent."
"But you can tell, which means so can Sten and Morrigan and Leliana and Wynne." Alistair sighed and shrugged, fixing his gaze on Maddie's figure ahead of them on the road. "I'm just grateful the Deep Roads didn't cost us more than a bit of blood and a bellyful of nausea."
"Aye," Zevran nodded and Alistair wondered, not for the first time, what the elf really thought of all of them, of their quest. Did the assassin believe in what they were doing? "We were very fortunate that it was not worse, though it seems wrong to say such, after seeing..." The elf shook his head and spread his hands. "And seeing the horde...the arch demon...I cannot fathom the depths of your courage my friend."
"It wasn't as if there was a Blight when I joined," Alistair pointed out a bit uncomfortably. He didn't feel particularly brave or noble. The Grey Wardens had seemed like a better alternative than becoming a Templar. "And I didn't exactly want to stay at the Chantry."
"Maddie did mention that you were given to the Chantry as a child." Zevran nodded his understanding, "I imagine after much of your life spent with the Chant of the Maker ringing in your ears it was a fine thing to be considered for another path."
Alistair chuckled a bit. "I nearly wasn't considered at all." He shook his head. "The head of my order really didn't think much of me, or my sense of humor and wasn't allowing me to compete in the tournament they'd staged to show Duncan the skill of the Templars."
"Then how did you catch Duncan's eye?" Zevran asked curiously. "I cannot imagine you simply walking up to the man and introducing yourself. For a would be king you are rather humble."
Alistair shrugged, "I don't know the specifics," He explained as they walked, "But Duncan asked about me. And he insisted I be allowed to compete in the tournament." The knight smiled slightly as he remembered how excited he'd been to compete. He'd never really been allowed to do anything he really enjoyed for long, even training was only for a specific amount of time.
"So you won the tournament then." Zevran concluded with a grin.
"Not even close," The knight laughed and shook his head. "I won some fights, lost others and did my best to be gracious in either event. I was really enjoying myself, but I never thought I'd be chosen. There were three Templars who were excellent warriors, everyone expected one of them to be chosen for recruitment.
"Then how is it that you were chosen for the Grey Wardens?" The elf looked puzzled and Alistair chuckled.
"That's what everyone else wanted to know too." The Warden shook his head again. "Duncan called me forward and the Knight Commander was pretty shocked, and so was I." Alistair smiled, feeling the sorrow tilt his lips as he recalled the man who'd been more a father to him than any other he'd known. "Duncan told me he hadn't asked for a tournament, and he hadn't offered recruitment as a prize. He came to find a warrior of character. And he had found one."
"Fine words." Zevran said thoughtfully. "He sounds a most interesting man your Duncan." The assassin frowned in consideration and looked at his larger friend. "And the Chantry just let you go?"
"Oh no," Alistair laughed. "The Knight Commander objected, and he sent for the Grand Cleric. She refused to allow my recruitment."
"But you are here no? A Grey Warden." Zevran pointed out the obvious as if to remind the Knight.
"Duncan invoked the Right of Conscription," Alistair grinned. "Which basically says the Wardens can get whoever they want, regardless of their legal or religious standing." Blue eyes twinkled with mischeif. "The Grand Cleric was furious. I'd never seen anyone that angry who didn't curse. The Blessing she gave us when we left could have curdled milk."
"That would have been a sight to see." The assassin laughed. "But now you are a Grey Warden, and have two others to aid you in ending the Blight as well as the motley crew you have gathered."
"Speaking of motley... I've been meaning to ask you something." Alistair looked at the ex-Crow. "The stories we hear down here about the Crows... they're not true, are they? They all sound a little far-fetched."
The elf laughed and shook his head. "I cannot say. What have you heard?" His expression was the epitome of mischief as he looked at Alistair. "In Antiva, we hear that Fereldan men cannot sleep without a dog in their bed. Is that true?"
"A dog?" Alistair shook his head. "You know that isn't accurate. We value our dogs, its part of our history."
"Oh. Perhaps it was simply a reference to your Fereldan women, then?" The assassin chuckled. "Though I would never say as much within your lady's hearing."
Alistair laughed, "Well, now that you mention it..." He shook his head. "There might be some truth to it, with some women anyway."
Zevran laughed appreciatively. "But those stories you heard? All true."
"Really?" Curiously the Grey Warden lowered his voice. "Even the ones that talk about how you all... you know... get paid to..."
His friend shook his head still chuckling, his expression. "Especially those ones."
"Wow." The Knight shook his head in chagrin. "I am totally in the wrong order."
"I do not think you are," Zevran smiled as he looked from Alistair to Maddie's distant figure and back to Alistair. "You are exactly where you should be. Even if you feel out of place from time to time."
"Try all the time." Alistair groaned. "Being a bastard literally means you have no place anywhere."
"I think you are fine where you are," Zevran pointed out. "After all, do you not have the lovely Maddie as your lady? She, the paragon of beauty and grace, is in love with you. You must be doing something right."
"And if I figure out what it is I'll keep doing it." Alistair smiled as Maddie began moving towards them.
"Ah," The elf grinned. "I do not think this will be a problem for you." He pointed towards Maddie, "She sees what you do not." Alistair couldn't help but grin as Maddie jogged back towards them, bouncing on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips before she hurried to the back of the group. Zevran shook his head and gave the knight a little salute. "And this is my cue to go forward. Pray we meet no enemies on the road."
"Fervently." Alistair chuckled as he took another look at their surroundings. The roads through the mountains were rife with possibilities for ambush.
"You do well to examine your surroundings." Sten remarked as he took Zevran's place beside Alistair.
"You're talking to me? Voluntarily I mean?" The knight blinked. "Are you feeling well? Perhaps you're sugar deprived?"
"I do not know 'sugar deprived' but I am well enough." Sten replied in his usual grave tone. "I thought to walk here so that we might speak."
"And what did you wish to speak about?" Alistair wasn't entirely certain the Qunari seeking him out was a good thing. Sten had never seemed to approve of him.
"You did not speak against your fellow Wardens for seeking my sword, though it went contrary to your quest." Sten stated.
"No…" Alistair shook his head. "Probably because I agreed with them. We need everyone at full strength. If you don't fight as well with another blade then you're not at full strength. Besides we stopped in Denerim to help Leliana and in the forest with an errand for Wynne. It seemed unfair to not retrieve your sword if we could."
"As the senior Grey Warden I would have thought your only concern be the Blight." The Qunari's voice was toneless for all its rumbling sound.
"It is. And you having your sword means we have a better chance of defeating the Arch Demon, thus the Blight." Alistair sighed wondering how many other ways he'd have to say it.
"It was not because you wished to avoid arguing with your fellow Grey Wardens?" Sten shot him a sharp glance that Alistair felt in his belly.
"Arguing with the twins is futile to begin with and arguing pointlessly is the epitome of futility." Alistair kept his tone deliberately cheerful. "Why would I quarrel about it?" He was unprepared for Sten to nearly growl out his next words.
"Draw your weapon."
The knight nearly sighed, what was going on in the Qunari's head now? "Are you talking to me?"
Sten eyed him darkly. "Your weapon. Draw it."
Alistair rolled his eyes. "Why? Are we under attack?" He looked at the surrounding mountains and the incline near the road to be certain there was no ambush lying in wait.
"I want to see what you can do." Violet eyes were black and unreadable as they stared down at him and Alistair nearly rolled his eyes again.
"You want to fight me?" He confirmed wondering just what Sten's point was. "Just like that?"
"You are a Grey Warden." Sten informed him. "How are you going to face an archdemon if you cannot face me?"
Alistair kept a grin off his face, barely, but it was hard to keep it out of his voice. "It is a mystery, I'll admit." Privately he thought arguing with Maddie was far more frightening than Sten, and Maddie didn't even have to draw her blades to scare him. She just had to glare with suddenly cold grey eyes and he got chills of trepidation.
"I should let your weakness damn us all?" Sten's voice was a growl of displeasure. "Draw your sword. I'll try not to injure you permanently."
The knight felt irritation tense his muscles and shook his head in an effort to throw it off, simultaneously denying Sten's demand. "I don't have to prove anything to you. Forget it." He fixed his eyes on Zevran's back for a moment and then scanned the road and their surroundings once again.
"So you do have a spine." The Qunari sounded as if he approved, but only slightly. "Pity you don't use it." He added derisively.
"Sten it takes more willpower to stand up to someone you know is wrong than to go along with the crowd." Alistair retorted before he could stop himself. "I've been doing that since my early days in the Chantry. Just because I don't argue for the sake of argument or make impossible demands doesn't mean I don't have a will of my own."
"And yet you allow others to lead when you are elder and senior to them." Sten, in contrast to Alistair's now heated tone, seemed utterly calm.
"I had to learn didn't I?" Alistair took a deep breath and let it out, using his Templar training to regain the calm he'd lost. "The twins have been trained to lead all their lives. I had not. I thought it better to learn, to observe, rather than assume command that might lead us to disaster."
"But you still have not taken command, and it has the better part of a year since Lothering." The Qunari pointed out
"The three of us make decisions." The knight said simply. "And if we argue, well, its bad form to argue in front of those who are supposed to follow. I was taught that leaders always present a united front to their men."
"That is not an ill thought." Sten admitted. "I will watch you more carefully than I have. I have seen your fellow Grey Wardens assume leadership, but you who are to be king had not done so."
"That's also my idea." Alistair said quietly. "Loghain wants us all dead. He wants me especially dead because of my father. We don't want to trumpet it through every town and countryside that we're the Grey Wardens and I'm the next king. We especially don't want Loghain to think I can lead. It's a great way to get killed."
"That smacks of cowardice." The huge warrior remarked reprovingly.
"I think it's practical." The knight rolled his eyes. "The fewer people who know who and where we are, the less likely we are all to be harmed. I don't see bravery in fighting constant battles and risking our lives and the failure of our quest when stealth and discretion can aid us in avoiding both."
"It is not a tactic Qunari know well." Sten acknowledged the fact reluctantly. "Very rarely are we given reason or the ability to sneak up on an enemy."
"Dreadnoughts and exploding powder do tend to draw attention." Alistair chuckled. "I'm going to talk with Cogburn for a bit. I want an idea of how far he wants to push tonight." He waited until Sten nodded before dropping back to speak with the male Cousland.
The conversation with Cogburn hadn't gone as well as Alistair had hoped, they'd finally decided to cover their normal amount of ground rather than push harder or farther. Arriving halfway through the day at Redcliffe was something Cogburn found preferable to pushing hard and arriving a day early but in the late evening.
"We're going to lose a day while the household packs up anyway," Cogburn argued. "We have to deal with the Teagan and Eamon at some point, why do it when we're exhausted and liable to be tripped up."
"I was hoping if we arrived in the evening the next day would be spent packing and we'd be traveling the day after." Alistair explained as Maddie joined the two of them. "If we're packing we can't be talked to."
"You don't really think Eamon and Teagan or Isolde will be packing their own things?" Maddie asked curiously. "Love, the servants will be doing the packing. I doubt they'll even bother the family overmuch. Isolde doesn't strike me as someone who takes an active hand in running the household."
Alistair enjoyed the warmth that shot through him at the sweet sound of Maddie calling him love and smiled slightly. "So what you're saying is that Eamon will expect us to be able to talk politics with him while everyone else packs."
"Most likely," Cogburn shot him a sympathetic look. "I'll try to take the brunt of that. Maddie is more experienced at moving a household and she'll be able to offer her help. You can try to stick with her or with Zevran or Wynne, maybe checking on supplies in the village."
"Speaking of supplies," Alistair prepared himself for the argument he knew would come. "You two need to replenish your personal supplies."
Cogburn gave him a blank look, while Maddie pressed her lips together, a mulish expression on her face. "We're fine," She said quietly.
"I gave all my coin to Oghren so he could bet on us in the Provings." Alistair kept his voice low. "We have enough in the groups fund for supplies and weapons. We should be able to get good prices in Redcliffe."
"We can't spare the coin." Maddie argued with a shake of her head.
"No, we can't afford to have the two of you look as if you're dressing from the Chantry rag bin when you're not in armor." Alistair retorted. "Before we even set foot in Redcliffe castle we're going to the general store in the village and getting the two of you clothes." His sweetheart frowned dangerously and Alistair felt his stomach clench. It was for her own good, he reminded himself and continued. "How will it look to the nobles in Denerim if you're both running around with threadbare breeches and tunics beneath your armor?" He cajoled.
"Maddie," Cogburn sighed, "If we have the coin…" He looked at his twin. "Isolde and Teagan can lend us clothing for any important event where we can't wear armor, but regular clothing…you know neither of them will have anything appropriate."
"Another set for each of us then, to wear in Denerim." Maddie agreed a bit grudgingly.
"Two sets, three if they're cheap." Alistair pressed. "What you're wearing is past mending if a blade gets past your armor. You need clothes. I'm a Chantry bastard and I'm better equipped than the two of you."
Cogburn groaned. "You're not letting this go are you?" He cast a look at Maddie and rolled his eyes. "You two fight this out, I'll abide by whatever you decide."
Alistair felt his stomach sink as Maddie looked at him, her expression was unreadable, that cool composed mask he hated to see on her face. "Don't look at me like that love," he muttered. "I only want what's best for you. We're all armored up, weapons primed…and what would you rather ask Eamon for? Weapons, armor? Or would you rather admit your smalls are ready to come apart?" He lowered his voice to a near whisper as he added the last, a blush heating his ears.
Her eyes were still unfathomable even as her cheeks pinkened at his words. "I'd rather confess to needing new armor rather than tell Isolde my underthings are in tatters." She sighed and Alistair knew she begrudged those words like a miser begrudged coin. "But I don't like it."
"How do you think I felt when I realized my Lady and her twin had less clothing than the penniless bastard?" Alistair replied. "I felt shamed I'd thought nothing of what you were wearing."
"You were glad enough to see me out of my clothes." Maddie teased him, her lips twitching slightly as humor caught up to her.
"And if I'd done as I'd dreamed of for months and torn your smalls off you?" He retorted keeping his voice low, "What would we have done then?"
"Gone without I suppose," She blushed and then tried to shrug off her discomfort.
Alistair groaned slightly. "We'd have gone broke providing bandages and potions I'd have been so distracted in battle." The groan turned into a chuckle and he shook his head. "But you see my point love?" He wished suddenly they were sitting by the fire so he could touch her braids and face and pet her into agreeing with him. But then she'd be able to do the same to him and he was very persuadable when Maddie was touching him.
"I do, it just…hurts my pride." Maddie admitted. "Of which I have an abundance."
"I know what you mean," Alistair smiled at her hopefully. "But at least it's money that we all earned, fighting the Provings, it's not like its charity."
She smiled up at him, her composed mask cracking and nudged him with her shoulder. "I know. And I promise if the price is good, we'll get at least three sets for twin and I."
"I'm going to hold you to that love," He smiled at her. "I can share my things with Cogburn but they'd be too large for you."
"Your clothes are nearly too large for my twin," Maddie chuckled. "I'd drown in them.
Making camp in the mountains was never something Alistair enjoyed. Ferelden's cold was increased to near pain and game was scarce. Rooster had caught a few hares and a squirrel but they wouldn't go far, especially given the Mabari's need for meat. Alistair dug through their supplies and regarded the barley doubtfully.
"Difficulties my friend?" Zevran asked, taking a seat closer to the fire than usual and pulling out his whetstone.
"Rooster brought in some game but it won't go far," Alistair admitted his concern. "We've some waybread and barley as well as dried peas and oats but…"
"Exactly, we are less well provisioned than you like." The elf nodded his understanding. "Maddie or Morrigan are needed to determine our meal for the evening, yes?"
"It's beyond my skill to come up with something that will satisfy hunger and not use all of our supplies." Alistair sighed. "Cogburn and Leliana were trying to come up with a bit more meat, so we've got some time…I just hate to bother Maddie with it. She's got enough on her mind."
"Shall I inquire of Morrigan?" Zevran asked, his eyes scanning the camp for the witch.
"Not yet…" The knight paused a moment. "I want to run something by you."
"Have at it then," Invited the assassin as he turned his gaze on the would be king.
"You know about Flemeth, what we've said we'll do," Alistair asked cautiously.
"The old woman's intentions for Morrigan, yes, I had gathered as much." Zevran nodded soberly.
"Flemeth can change into a dragon." Alistair began to skin the rabbits to keep his hands busy, his eyes moving from his work to Zevran's face. The elf's expression was a study of shock beneath a veneer of nonchalance. "I know, formidable right?" The knight rolled his eyes. "So I was thinking we need to go past the route to Haven in order to get to Redcliffe…"
"And Haven has a dragon." Zevran stated simply, his slightly wild eyes belying the calm of his words.
"Exactly." Alistair nodded, "So why not use that dragon for practice so we're more prepared when we go after Flemeth."
"Alistair, you are my friend," Zevran began with a shake of his head, "And I regard you, especially given your pursuit of the amazing Lady Madelaina, as one of the bravest of men. But I do wonder if you have been hit on the head a few too many times when you phrase attacking a dragon as 'practice'."
Alistair laughed, shaking his head. "It does sound ridiculous, stupidly courageous, when you put it like that," He admitted. "But we can't just go after Flemeth cold. And we didn't kill every man, woman and child in Haven. If we leave the dragon unmolested they'll just start that damn cult up again."
"You have a fair point there." Zevran admitted.
"A more than fair point," Sten agreed coming towards the fire. "I had wondered at the time why you Wardens had left an enemy unharmed. It makes sense to deal with the dragon now, rather then after the Blight is gone."
"And you know Haven won't exactly send a militia to help with the Blight anyway." Alistair nodded, "They'll just hole up in those mountains and attack any pilgrims that want to see Andraste's ashes."
"Better they are given no excuse," Sten nodded his understanding. "Take away the dragon and their cult is destroyed as well."
"Well that's what I'm hoping." The knight rolled his eyes. "As it is I'll have to make certain that cult is uprooted completely before its safe for pilgrimages. We'll have to mount a contingent of the guard in Haven otherwise."
"What's this about that cesspool of maniacs in the mountains?" Maddie asked as she and Morrigan approached the fire. Wynne and Oghren followed behind them, everyone drawing closer to the flames in an effort to gain some warmth.
"Ah, your gallant knight has determined that it is best to practice killing dragons on the creature at Haven before we all go off to destroy Flemeth." Zevran informed the pretty rogue with a wicked grin.
"Practice on the dragon at Haven…" Maddie tilted her head thoughtfully. "Kill it, go to Redcliffe and then head south along the way to Denerim to kill Flemeth?" She sat down and reached for the stewpot and the waterskins, her hands busily filling the pot with items for rabbit stew as she thought. "I suppose since the Archdemon takes the form of a dragon that Flemeth could be argued as practice for that."
Alistair chuckled. "Let's not drop that little tidbit when we're fighting Flemeth. The woman would kill us out of sheer irritation at the thought of being mere 'practice' for anything."
"You are not wrong in that." Morrigan put in dryly, sorting through the herbs she'd gathered and handing Maddie several plants she'd deemed edible.
"Then we've decided?" Alistair blinked in surprise that no one really was arguing with him. "Usually I get a lot more arguing about my ideas. I still say cheese stew is a keeper." Everyone groaned at that and he chuckled. "Fine, but you're missing a rare treat."
"Why would we argue with you when you're right?" Maddie laughed a little as she threw barley into the stewpot. "If you had started saying we should cross the sea and seek allies in the Free Marches you'd probably get a quarrel. But not over this."
"What are we not arguing about now?" Cogburn, followed by Leliana and Rooster had reentered the camp, a couple of rabbits in his hand.
The two were told of Alistair's idea, Leliana wasn't as supportive but even she could see the reasoning behind killing the dragon. Alistair grinned and began skinning the rest of the rabbits. "If you can find anymore, we're going to be moving on in the morning, there's no risk of overhunting the area." He suggested. "Our supplies are low and we'll have to visit the store in Haven as it is."
Cogburn sighed but gestured to Leliana and Rooster, "All right but we'd better build up the fire, it is damn cold up here. And if we're going hunting half the night I want to be warm when I finally get back." He didn't quite stomp off into the woods but irritation was in every line of his body. Rooster was bouncing happily alongside him while Leliana was simply resigned.
Alistair shrugged and began to gather more wood, Zevran joining him as they looked for deadfalls. The Grey Warden knew he was in for one of Zevran's little chats when the elf's eyes began to twinkle mischeivously. "You know, Alistair, Antiva has a long tradition of royal bastards."
Alistair refrained from sighing. He was in for it now. "You don't say?"
The elf nodded enthusiastically, "Oh, yes. They've led wars to claim the throne. Some of them have become kings. In fact, I'd say the current royal line in Antiva stems from bastard blood several times over."
"Well aren't you just chock full of useless trivia today," Alistair chuckled.
Zevran nodded, "Sadly, whenever a royal bastard rears their head in public and declares themselves, it often goes poorly for them."
Alistair looked at him around the armful of wood they'd gathered. "Let me guess: they get assassinated?"
"Only the very popular ones," Zevran answered cheerfully.
"And the unpopular ones?" Alistair dumped the armload down by the fire and headed back for more.
"Well, they get by somehow, I'm sure," The elf thought for a moment as he began to gather wood, stacking it in Alistair's arms. "There was one fellow who did quite well working as a prostitute based on his uncanny resemblance to the king. Charged a fortune."
"Couldn't afford him, I take it?" The Grey Warden teased.
Zevran chuckled wickedly, "That cynicism will serve you well, my friend. Hold onto it."
They made another trip back to the fire where Maddie and Morrigan were working on the stew. Wynne had enlisted Sten to help her with the tents while Oghren built up the fire a bit more, organizing their woodpiles with Shale's help.
"So what do you have to say about me becoming king?" Alistair asked Zevran as they made one final trip back to the deadfall. "I suppose you don't care?"
"No, no, I think it is quite marvelous," Zevran shook his head, his lips twitching in amusement. "A most unusual way to pick a king, however."
"Unusual?" Alistair considered that for a moment as Zevran began to load him up with wood again. "I guess it was a bit... unorthodox, even by our standards." He conceded with a wry grin. "Why? How does a king get picked in Antiva?"
"Oh, he or she is elected, of course. Provided they make it to the election without being first assassinated," The elf explained.
"Yes, from what you said that seems to happen a lot there." Alistair shook his head. "Makes me wonder why anyone would even want to be king."
The assassin nodded his understanding, "It is considered a very brave and impressive thing to attempt to become king of Antiva. Sometimes nobody steps forward at all, sadly."
"And what happens then?" Alistair asked as Zevran piled more wood into his arms before they headed back to the fire.
"Why, we start assassinating those who we think should run until someone does." Zevran's laugh was wicked. "Never let it be said that the Crows are not patriots."
"Maker forfend," Alistair agreed drily as he dumped the wood into the pile. "Zevran, you understand that you are my friend, and I mean no offense right?"
"Alistair, you are my friend and I know you mean no offense," The elf agreed.
"Oh good," The knight sighed as he sat down. "I love you like a brother, but I never want to live in Antiva. Because your politics make my head spin."
The assassin shook his head with a chuckle and began to remove his armor. "You are like a brother to me as well Alistair. And I doubt you will ever have to live in Antiva. Lady Maddie wouldn't tolerate our nonsense for a moment."
"That I would not." Maddie told them, "Now go and wash up."
Zevran shook his head as Alistair rose and extended a hand to help him up. "You are one of the most dangerous men around, yet a woman half your size orders you around."
"Yes Zevran," Alistair told his friend in the reasonably obvious tone he could manage. "I'm in love and I'm completely whipped, to use one of Cogburn's terms." Zevran was chuckling as they walked towards the buckets designated for washing. The knight grinned at him, "So what would your excuse be?"
The elf stopped mid chortle and then began laughing again, "I am deathly afraid of your lady." Zevran grinned, "I fear her wrath should I return for dinner with dirt on my face and hands."
"Smart man." Alistair grinned. "Very smart man."
Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I've got a poll up asking if I should post more works in progress. They're not Dragon Age stories so I don't know if ya'll will be interested in participating or not. I can reassure you that I have no intention of abandoning any of my stories. But I would like your opinions. I do think that regardless of the results I won't be posting any more new stories until this one has finished. I think all of you deserve an ending to this epic. So please let me know what you think and if I've gotten too far off base with these characters.
The story of Alistair's recruitment is taken and summarized from the bioware website official reference "- excerpt from the journal of Brother Tevius, serving the Order of Templars in Redcliffe" You can find it by going to this link (take out the excess spaces).
social. bioware wiki /dragonage /index .php /Alistair