Alistair puts his feet on the floor. Puts his elbows on his knees; his head in his hands.
"Fuck," he says, low -- and then louder, "Fuck. Fuck!"
He lashes out to slam his fist into the headboard. Remembering himself -- if only just -- the next few punches land on the mattress and pillows before he lunges to his feet and storms for the kitchen.
All those years of Black -- Rainier playacting, like it was a Maker-damned game, while the real Blackwall lay dead somewhere, while Alistair sacrificed himself for the futile redemption of the Wardens, while he's sitting around waiting for his Calling to come. I don't fear the Calling, he remembers the man say -- yes, well, of course he wouldn't, wouldn't he, because he has nothing at all to fear. It won't ever happen to him!
(Dimly, Alistair's aware that he's spitting those words aloud as he digs through the cabinets for something old and smashable.)
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"Fuck," he says, low -- and then louder, "Fuck. Fuck!"
He lashes out to slam his fist into the headboard. Remembering himself -- if only just -- the next few punches land on the mattress and pillows before he lunges to his feet and storms for the kitchen.
All those years of Black -- Rainier playacting, like it was a Maker-damned game, while the real Blackwall lay dead somewhere, while Alistair sacrificed himself for the futile redemption of the Wardens, while he's sitting around waiting for his Calling to come. I don't fear the Calling, he remembers the man say -- yes, well, of course he wouldn't, wouldn't he, because he has nothing at all to fear. It won't ever happen to him!
(Dimly, Alistair's aware that he's spitting those words aloud as he digs through the cabinets for something old and smashable.)