Mailbox for Alistair

Alistair had come to grips, as much as one could, with the fact he was a female for now. He realized it wasn't as bad as it could be in the grand scheme of things, but it still was disconcerting to say the least ( Read more... )

It'd seemed he and Zelda had dodged a potential bad situation. Though he was grateful they both had gotten out before whatever happened down below that had others trapped in that place, there was a guilt he couldn't quite shake still. He could be doing something down there. Instead, he was among the many waiting to hear everyone was okay ( Read more... )

The thing was, Alistair was no more knowledgeable about the concept of 'dating' than he'd been before this place. Say what he would about how things might've gone back in Ferelden, but at least there was a structure he could follow and understand. Not to say he wanted it as it used to be, but it didn't lend him any clues on what to do ( Read more... )

The shuffling around of some officers in the IPD hadn't come as too much of a surprise to Alistair. He had liked his former partners, but the quiet patrols daily had begun to make it obvious that three people on one patrol together was likely a little much. He didn't know much about his new one beyond a brief meeting when they were reassigned, but ( Read more... )

It was a side project he had going on for a little while. It'd been something he had thought about for a while, actually, but only recently felt like he was adept enough with working with wood to do it. The carving of a usable wooden sword was surprisingly difficult when he actually wanted it to resemble what he used to train with, and even the ( Read more... )

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Much as Alistair had liked the fact he had absolutely nothing pressing to do, admittedly it had begun to lose it's luster. He was bored often and more noticeable than that, restless. It was easy to slip back into things he was comfortable with doing - the sword lessons with Sarah and now this, an IPD patrol. If anything, he knew he was giving back ( Read more... )

Alistair found he looked forward to the days hey trained. The sword in his hand was the most natural feeling thing in the world, which probably said much about him. Regardless of how weird it was, he at least was able to avoid getting rusty. As it turned out, Sarah was apparently quite the natural, and he didn't have to hold back quite as much as ( Read more... )

Things hadn't gotten too much more normal lately, but if Alistair was anything, he was the kind of man who could adapt. He spent his first week or so learning about his new environment. Now, with his hut made, he was starting to settle in that way, too. They were all things he could focus on that weren't thoughts about what could be happening back ( Read more... )