Hello all! *waves*

I had this idea of writing a fic after Awakening had taken place, with Alistair as the Warden Commander, and very much alone at the beginning. He hasn't fallen in love yet and he still is the blushing Chantry boy we all know and love. Will he meet someone special along the way? Maybe! LOL! But the real challenge here is that the story will be mainly from his PoV and we will get a glimpse of his inner feelings throughout the journey while reading his journal entries also!

Anyway, I finally remembered my disclaimer before I begin this fic, so here it is:

Bioware owns everything, I own nothing, but I sure would like to 'own' a couple of their characters!

Chapter 1 - Alistair's Second Journal

Dragon Age 9:32

It's been nearly two years since the Blight ended, and I can't believe I'm doing this today. I'm starting a second journal! The fact that I've never shared an affinity with books might be one of the reasons behind my surprise at writing a journal again. That, and my thirst for blood (evil smile here) and my willingness to spar and be forever in the front lines in battle may also have something to do with this. I can almost hear my good friend's voice, Duran, (and Hero of Ferelden) screaming at me from wherever he is now. (Somewhere in Orzammar?)

"You've gotten serious! Your Templar has finally caught up with you and we'll never see the end of it now."

I smile as I write this and think back at the time when we were still trying to stop the Blight and all the madness that it entailed.

Now, almost two years later- er, I did just write that, but as everyone knows I have a tendency to babble (not that anyone would ever read this- I do have very bad handwriting) a letter is brought to my attention bearing the seal of the Wardens of Orlais.

When I open and read it my eyes widen with surprise, and I stroke the stubble on my chin thoughtfully as I ponder on the implications.

(Well, I never stroke the stubble on my chin, I just thought it looked good in writing.)

How is it possible that there are still darkspawn attacks in Orlais? I had dealt with the threat, or so I thought...

The Mother had been killed by my companions and myself not four months ago, and the Architect had been dispatched two months later as it had died when I sliced it using my trusty Starfang, a gift from Duran himself.

Darkspawn in Orlais. What could they possibly accomplish by showing themselves now? I knew it was too soon for another Blight to begin.

Another thought crosses my mind and well...maybe I should have let him live, agreeing to his offer, and ensuring peace to all of Thedas?

His offer had been tempting to say the least. He had offered to make all the darkspawn retreat back into the Deep Roads, the agreement included using my blood to put a stop to the darkspawn invasion in Thedas, thus ending the threat of another Blight in the future years to come.

I write his words here as I remember them, and frown as I do so.

"Is it not the way of the Grey Wardens to do what must be done, in the name of combating the Blight? The Blight is a menace, both for your people and for mine. To end it requires sacrifice and risk."

So, maybe I did screw up. It would not be a first.

This is exactly why I had begged Duran not to make me king at the Landsmeet. I hate leading and making decisions. Well, my decisions do seem to turn out well now that I am Warden Commander though and-

Duran wasn't here, however. He'd left for Orzammar to talk to his brother, Bhelen, right after they had successfully driven the darkspawn back, saving the city and the keep from the attacks.

A knock on the door interrupted Alistair, so he put the quill down and stood up automatically to answer it.

He was wearing his Warden Commander armor, the same one that Duran Aeducan had given him after they had successfully cleared out Soldier's Peak and killed the demon inside the rotting corpse of Sophia Dryden.

Flinging open the door, he stood there for a moment, blinking at his late visitor.

"Alistair, I'm sorry to interrupt, but Oghren is at it again," Anders drawled at him indifferently, his eyes twinkling which betrayed the way he actually felt about the whole thing.

"Maker's breath!" He swore, and shut the door as he followed Anders out into the courtyard while muttering under his breath but loud enough so that Anders could hear. "If you had anything to do with this, Anders, I swear-"

"What? I didn't do anything!" Anders protested in mock hurt tones as they walked through the throne room and up to the large main doors that led to the courtyard.

As soon as they arrived, they stopped in their tracks, staring at the scene that unfolded before them.

Oghren was in the middle of the courtyard, swinging his axe at...nothing and bellowing at the top of his voice.

"You evil nughumper, by the tits of my Ancestors! Gonna tear you a new one, I am!" He screamed over and over, his face even redder than his flaming red hair.

Anders and Alistair glanced at each other for a few minutes.

"Can't you use a spell of yours to calm him down or something?" Alistair asked nervously eyeing Oghren's battleaxe warily.

"He's a dwarf, Commander," Anders retorted.

"Oh. Right." Alistair wet his lips as he pondered what to do.

"You're the Warden Commander. I'm just here for moral support anyway," Anders smirked.

"Coward," Alistair muttered.

It suddenly occurred to him that Oghren was swinging with a pattern. Yes. There definitely was a pattern to his swings. Back and forth. Pause. Back and forth. Pause.

He stepped carefully into his line of vision, but Oghren did not even see him or register that there was anybody there at all. In his ale-ridden mind, he was battling someone, and he wanted to slice the enemy into two neat pieces.

Velanna walked into view at that moment. Alistair faltered and took a step back. As much as he thought she was a beautiful woman, he knew she had a terrible temper and she would probably either laugh at Oghren or react the way she always reacted, and he did not want to be her punching bag, as he had been Morrigan's before her.

Velanna, however, studied the whole scene with a sly smile on her face. She even smirked a bit and a chuckle escaped her lips.

"Oghren!" She called out in a nearly sweet voice- well, sweet for her anyway. "It's Velanna! Didn't you want to talk to me earlier?"

Oghren stopped swinging as he regarded her blearily through bloodshot eyes.

"Eh? Is that you, Felsi?"

Alistair bit back a laugh as Velanna rolled her eyes.

Oghren then backed away, his axe sliding to the ground immediately. "I didn't mean anything, Felsi, nope! Won't drink again, not even if the little pike twirler asks me to!"

Anders sniggered behind Alistair. The Commander's ears had turned a flaming red.

"Oghren," he said, stepping right in front of him, while he flashed a smile at Velanna, who nodded at him, a smile on her lips. "Oghren, it's all right. Nobody is going to tell Felsi anything.

The dwarf swayed precariously on his feet, then without warning vomited all over Alistair's boots and fell to the ground unconscious.

Anders and Velanna cackled evilly and left the Commander standing there, disgust and dismay written plainly across his face.

He could tell he was going to have a bad time cleaning up his boots tonight.

...

He gathered all his men the next afternoon, and gave them a speech on the course of action to take regarding the situation in Orlais. He had received two more missives that morning so he put together a group of six, and appointed Nathaniel as the commander until his return to the keep.

The people who he was taking all went to their rooms to ready themselves for the journey, calling it an early night to get more rest, except for Anders who stayed behind.

"Commander, I just wanted to ask if you are absolutely sure about taking me and Velanna along? I mean, we are both mages and we really don't get along."

"I'm sure," Alistair answered as he walked to his rooms briskly, Anders close behind him. "There are plenty of warden mages left here at the keep, and I'm going to need the two of you to battle the darkspawn. Your healing abilities simply surpass anyone else's and Velanna's offensive spells are going to be necessary." Having reached the door he paused, looking at Anders while he wondered if he was going to continue the conversation or not. He really wanted to get into his room, take a bath and get all his things ready. They would be leaving the next day at the crack of dawn.

"Ah, I see." Anders paused for a moment then smirked. "And your- ah, attraction towards Velanna, has nothing to do with it, does it?"

Alistair blushed, much to his dismay.

"My...attraction? No!" He shook his head vigorously. "No, it doesn't. Why would it? I mean she is an extremely attractive woman, but, no! I'm scared of her mostly. She reminds me too much of a witch I traveled with during the Blight. She was...an...evil woman." He stammered out. Then he added as an afterthought. "You're free to romance her. Not my type definitely." Anders blushed and Alistair grinned. It was extremely difficult to get Anders to blush.

He nodded a good night to him and pat himself on the back for the way the conversation had ended. Stepping into his room, he softly, but very firmly shut his door on Anders's face.

"Well, good night to you too, Commander!" Anders's muffled voice came through the door.

Alistair stifled a chuckle and head to the warm bath that waited for him in the corner of the room. He stripped himself of the armor and flexed his muscles stretching. His bare body revealed scars from his encounters throughout the Blight and his hair, once short was now a lot longer, and he kept two side braids fastened on the back to keep it off his face, much like Nathaniel Howe did. He unfastened the twin braids now, for he wanted to wash his hair as well, and stepped into the tub.

Even though his companions teased him mercilessly, they greatly admired him and followed his orders without question. There were now forty-eight Grey Wardens in the compound, all of them had been chosen by him and all of them had proved themselves many times over in all the mess they had straightened out during the siege of Amaranthine and the attack on the Keep. Truthfully, even though Alistair hated to lead, he found himself very comfortable in his current role and found it easy to command his wardens.

He nearly fell asleep in the tub, which was his cue to get out of it, and dry himself, stumbling wearily to bed where he fell asleep, face down, and completely naked.

...

The next day dawned beautifully, and Alistair rushed through his things putting together his pack quickly and efficiently. He took the Joining Cup they had found when they had returned to Ostagar, leaving the other one with Nathaniel just in case, and some empty vials as well as a few drops of spare archdemon blood. He did it more out of a sense of practicality than anything else. He wanted to be sure that, given the circumstances, he could perform an emergency Joining if the need ever arose. He knew that Anders was skilled at preparing the concoction also, which is another reason that he was taking him along. They did need more wardens anyway, and it never felt bad to be two steps ahead.

He wore his dragon bone armor, and left his Warden Commander armor at the keep, reflecting that he felt more comfortable with the one he had on now, so he would be fighting more easily should they have the need to fight along the way, which he was sure they would.

His companions were waiting for him in the throne room. He discussed a few things with Nathaniel, who grinned and agreed to what he said, and shook hands with Varel before he left, the rest following him out of Vigil's Keep.

They head west, staying on the North Road for as long as they could, and cutting through forests and wading through creeks and streams when they couldn't. At the end of the day, they camped and Alistair cooked, and everyone ate his stew but only because they were hungry. In truth, they didn't like his cooking and he didn't blame them, but they had to eat and nobody had offered to cook during their journey.

So they finished the bland stew their first night at camp, and Alistair took out his map and spent some time looking at it. He figured they could follow the road, but from there they would have to either cut through the Heartlands or continue along the Imperial Highway which went around Lake Celestine directly to Val Royeaux and which would take longer as well. He didn't have to think long to arrive to a conclusion. Some of the reports said they had spotted darkspawn around Montsimmard, so that is where they had to go, even though it meant adding several days to their journey.

He folded his map neatly and placed it into his pack, and for a moment considered taking out his journal and writing, but then his eyes looked upwards and he found himself looking up at the stars and breathing in the fresh woodland air so he decided against it for the time being.

The whole thing filled him with an inner peace and he took it immediately and savored it. Who knew when they would again have such a perfect night on this trip? He felt almost perfectly happy for the first time in months, and leaned back on his elbows, while the rest chatted away amicably around the fire. There was only one thing missing from his life, in truth, and he didn't want to dwell on that. Not tonight.

He shrugged off the loneliness that lay deep in his heart, the feeling of not being completely whole, and stood up, wiping the dust from his armor, sitting beside the rest of his companions, listening to their jokes and easy bantering, smiling at times and at others laughing out loud, until they all decided to call it a night. He had Oghren and Fernan stay up for first watch and head into his tent after wishing them all a good night.

Alistair Theirin then got his bed roll out and lay on it, listening to the crickets outside and ignored the feeling of loneliness that had swept up over him yet again, before turning to his side and falling into a deep, refreshing sleep.

A/N: There will be a lot more bantering in the coming chapters. And things will get interesting for our ex-Templar as well as for the rest...stay tuned! ;)