A/N: This story just DEMANDED to be written. Thank you to Saga Svanhildr for being my beta. I've said before, I'd be lost without you. Who doesn't love Cousland and Alistair? But before we get there, we have to see what happened before. Hope so! This is totally AU, I may bring in elements of Awakening and it includes characters from the games and the Machinima youtube series. Enjoy.

"Almost Alright"

I might get a little sideways
Yeah, but what do you expect?
I might have a few bad days
I'm figuring out its for the best
I'm almost alright
I'm just about fine

-"Almost Alright" by Blake Shelton

"Commander." Alistair ignored the voice speaking to him. It had been a year since the Blight ended, but it still felt like it was just yesterday that he had been at Ostagar and met Evie for the first time. He had made a smart remark about mages and he watched her smile like they had known each other for years. Maybe it had just been him. He sighed. Most days, he still expected her to walk back into his life to apologize for her absence. He would just smile and everything would be alright. If only things were that easy. Instead, he just had to rely on his memories. Alistair Theirin had a nasty habit of falling into daydreams at the least opportune times. This one had been no exception.

Arguments filled the air between them. Her defiant nature had taken over with just a jut of her chin and the narrowing of her eyes. "Don't do this," he begged her, "Let me." Evelyn wouldn't hear it. She brought up a hand and placed a gentle finger on his lips. After all, the Archdemon wouldn't wait forever. She replaced her finger with her lips and Alistair felt himself melt into the mage and briefly allowed himself to forget about the swarming horde heading their way. The fighting still raged. The dwarves, the golems, the elves, and the mages alike all fought to keep them back. Alistair thought it was to give them a moment. Zevran and Leliana understood something that he was not ready to grasp just yet. Evie parted from the kiss and pulled his sword from his sheath.

"I'm sorry," she apologized and took off running. Alistair tried to go after her, but he couldn't move. The Archdemon roared and he watched as his love leapt into the air. He looked down to see a glyph of paralysis laid underneath his feet. How could she?

He looked back to her as the sword came bearing down and into the Archdemon's neck. She ran along the curvature of it, slicing into the dragon. It fell before her and a cry was heard. Alistair was unsure if it was from her or from him. Evie lifted the sword above her head and the blade slid into the head of the Archdemon. The soul of the Old God erupted from the dragon in a brilliant, almost blinding white line. Leliana was at his side as she tried to get him to move. "No!" He cried and the glyph wore off. It took her, Zevran and several men from Redcliffe to hold him back. Alistair watched as Evie looked at him one last time before the light shot through her body. His heart dropped. She couldn't leave him. He would not allow it. After everything they had gone through together, this was not how things were going to end. It couldn't be. The reaction from the destruction of the two souls was like an explosion and knocked everyone on the top of Fort Drakon down.

Alistair scrambled to his feet as some of the darkspawn tried to retreat. The armies that had gathered worked to cut them down one by one. No. He wasn't going to help. He had one thing in mind. He needed to get to her. He needed to touch her. This was just a horrible dream. He'd wake up at any moment. He fell to his knees beside her. "Wake up," he begged as he gathered the limp body into his arms. Was she still in there? His fingers trailed delicately against her cheek. Wishful thinking kept him from seeing that she was already gone. "Why couldn't you let it be me?" He buried his face into her hair as the hot tears streaked down his cheeks. She was gone.

"Commander!" Alistair looked up and sighed. He still wasn't used to hearing that. It didn't feel very fitting. He didn't stop the Blight. Evelyn did. She was the one that led their group while he had been the Junior Warden, as Morrigan had liked to point out. Alistair made a face as he thought about the witch. Where was she when her friend lay dying? He shook his head. He didn't care about the bitch, never had and never would. What he did care about was the look on Garevel's face.

"Yes, Captain?" He asked. What could possibly be the matter now? He moved from the seat he had taken inside of the Keep's throne room. He thought when he declined to be king that he wouldn't have to deal with the nobles, but more and more problems occurred in Amaranthine, only to show him that he had been wrong. "Does someone have anothercomplaint?" Maker help him if it was Esmerelle. That woman was a viper waiting to strike. Alistair wasn't willing to wait and see if he would get bitten first.

Garevel gave him an amused look and shook his head. "Not yet," he replied, "but I wanted to inform you of the Warden recruits arriving within the week." Ah, yes. The recruits… they were the hopeless bastards that wanted to join the order in hopes of becoming the next Hero of Ferelden, though no one could replace her, not for him.

"Who is going to meet them?"

"Kristoff."

Alistair made a face. "Maker have mercy, he'll scare them off before they even get off the boat," he said. He slapped his hand on his forehead and let out a long sigh. "Is there no one else?" He had worked with the man daily to make Vigil's Keep ready for the Orlesian Wardens that had been on their way at the time. Oh, how that had been grand. Turning the keep into a suitable place for the Wardens, meant getting rid of everything that was Howe related and storing it in the vaults. There was one painting in particular, Alistair's eyes wandered as he thought about it, that he wanted to get rid of, but it was too heavy and too large. It was of a creepy woman that he assumed had been Howe's wife…or something. Bugger, he felt like it was staring at him.

"No one wants the job," the Captain told him. Hm? What? Ah, yes, Alistair thought, who would want to train the recruits?It wasn't like they weren't the same way at one point, oh no, that was a time that most had liked to forget. Sometimes he regretted agreeing to take this position. Anora insisted, the First Warden even made an appearance to encourage him –as if that helped- and his old friends told him to take it as well. They said it would be good for him. Ultimately, it had been the fact that there was a statue erected in the middle of the courtyard of Evelyn that made him agree. It was the closest to the real thing that he was going to get and he would do anything to be around her, even if it were a statue.

"Tell the Sergeant that he will have my company when he sets off for the city." He had an odd feeling that he was going to regret the decision. Alistair and Kristoff hadn't necessarily been on speaking terms since their disagreement in the Deep Roads. Though, now wasn't the time to think about that. They had to work together and that was that. Evie had told him a long time ago that he couldn't please everyone. It was a good lesson to be learned, even if it had been a hard one.

"Do you think that it wise, Commander?" Garevel asked.

He shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know," he told him, "but it's better than sitting in here on my arse waiting for the next noble with a dire matter for me to solve." Alistair rolled his eyes at the word 'dire.' Everything was of importance with the nobles, and with any noble in fact. The Captain laughed. "Don't you agree?" He asked him.

"Aye," he agreed, "I will let him know, Commander."

"Thank you, and I thought I told you to call me Alistair. Commander is just way too formal for my tastes," Alistair said with a nod.

"Old habits die hard," he told him, "I bid you good day…Alistair." He watched Garevel leave, passing Varel as he exited. He made a face at the older man.

"Please tell me it isn't the nobles," he greeted the Seneschal.

Varel let out a light laugh before he shook his head. "No," he replied, "they have quieted lately. I don't know if that should be comforting or raise alarm." He shared the same feelings, but Alistair welcomed the reprieve from their bickering.

"What is it this time then?" He scratched at the growing stubble on his chin. "Or shall I take a guess?"

Varel shook his head. "That won't be necessary, Commander," he told him, "You've received a letter from Highever from Teyrn Fergus Cousland. I think it's a matter to be looked over." Alistair's eyebrows creased together. Why in Andraste's name would the newly reinstated Teyrn be sending him a letter?

"Do you know what it's about?" He asked as Varel handed over the parchment. The older man shook his head. Ah, well, at least someone could respect privacy. He knew there was a reason he liked the man. Alistair chewed on his lower lip as he broke the wax seal on the letter and opened it to read its content.

Warden-Commander,

Among the recruits that you are expecting to receive is my sister, Lia Cousland. I implore you to send her back to Highever. She is due to be married to Oswyn Sighard and it is not something she can step away from. Please remind her of her duty as a Cousland…

Alistair had to stop reading after that. If he had a sovereign for every time someone tried to preach to him about duty, he would be a rich man. His shoulders slumped slightly as he stared at the paper. Eamon would have ringed his neck if he knew that he was going to ignore the letter. He was tired of duty. He was tired it being something that the nobles hung over each other to get what they wanted. He knew Fergus was a good man, but to force something on another person… that was not how Alistair liked to handle things. He had little choice in most of what happened in his life and he would not take that choice away from another. "It seems that the dear Teyrn would like his sister back," he said.

"What do you propose to do?" Varel asked him. He didn't know. Alistair supposed that the best route was to leave the decision to Lia, if she even showed up with the other recruits.

"It's her choice," he replied.

A dark shadow cast over the older man's features. "I'm not sure that would be the best route, Commander," he told him.

"Alistair," he corrected the Seneschal.

Varel shook his head. "Very well, Alistair," he continued, "but I don't think that it would be wise as Warden-Commander, as you are the equivalent to our Arl, to ignore such a request."

"I'm not ignoring it," he told him and waved the paper in the air as he did so, "if I was I wouldn't have read it." He folded the letter back up.

"You didn't even read the whole thing," Varel said with exasperation lacing his tone.

"I'm just saying that I'm not going to force her to do anything." Alistair smirked. "If I did that, then I'm no better than the nobles I complain about." He handed the Seneschal the letter. "If anyone is looking for me, I'll be in the courtyard checking on the traders."

Alistair didn't wait for a reply before he left the throne room. The bitter chill of the wind was a welcome from the heat inside. Fall was on its way. The leaves on the trees morphed into various colors. As the wind picked up, several fell onto the ground, and as Alistair stepped over them he could hear the crunch that only confirmed that the seasons were changing. The Keep bustled with people varying from warriors, priestesses, traders, smithies, dwarves, elves, humans, and those who had made a home there. They all acknowledged his presence as he made his way through the crowd. "Hello, Commander!" Oh, he knew that voice. It was enough to set him into a frantic run. The last time he heard that voice it was accompanied with something being hurled at his head.

He turned to see Herren and Wade standing there. "What a surprise to see you two here," he greeted them.

"Oh yes," the merchant replied, "since we did so much for you and your companions, we figured we'd come here to see if you needed any help." Help? It was more like he was looking to make money. Alistair glanced at Wade. The smith didn't look amused to be there.

"Yes, well, good luck with that," he told the two and started to leave. Yes, he'd deal with them later.

A bark carried through the air over the noise and a familiar figure bounded towards him. He knelt down on one knee as Barker, Evie's mabari, stopped at his feet. "There's a good boy," he greeted him and rubbed behind his ears. "Been playing with the locals?" The hound pushed his cold wet nose against Alistair's cheek. "Oh, I missed you too." He stood up and looked around. "Come on, we're going to visit her."

Barker stayed by his side as they went to the courtyard. The first thing he spotted was the statue of the Hero, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face. What kind of smile was a different story. Yes, he was still angry with her. Yes, he was bitter that she took the killing blow, and yes…he wished more than anything that it had been him. The mabari huffed as he took his place at the foot of the statue. He ran his fingers through his hair, unsure of what to say to her as he sat down on the hard ground. He glanced at Barker, the mutt seemed content with silence, but the silence drove him crazy.

"You know," he started, "I'm starting to wonder your reasoning." He waited for a response. Was it a sign of him going crazy? Did it matter?

"I know."

There it was. He closed his eyes. "It should be you they call Commander," he told her, "but you were always so stubborn."

"Would you have me any other way?"Maker, she already knew the answer to that. Alistair opened his eyes slowly. She told him once of a talking Tevinter statue in the Circle of Magi. Was that the cause of this now? Was he just imagining things? "You're thinking too much."

"That kind of contradicts popular opinion, love," he told her. He raised a hand and scratched the back of his neck. "We're getting new recruits soon."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied, "soon enough, the number of recruits will drop unless another Blight happens, Maker forbid." He sighed. "I was never good at leading. I left that to you."

"I think you're doing a wonderful job."

"Don't try to butter me up, darling."

"Are you still angry with me?"

"I didn't come here to talk about that…" His throat tightened and he stood up. Barker looked at him and huffed. Alistair knew where the dog's loyalty lay.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"If you hadn't had a reason to join the Grey Wardens, would you have still joined if Duncan offered it to you?" He asked. He waited patiently for an answer, but nothing came. Disappointment took over. He frowned at the statue as he looked at her face. The artist had captured her likeness to such detail he wondered if they had possibly known her. "Evie…" He pleaded for her to speak to him but he got nothing. Alistair turned away and made the motion to leave.

"Don't."

He was tired of whatever games she was playing. "Your answer then?"

"Yes," she told him, "I would have." That was all he needed to know. "Alistair?" The way she said his name sent a light shiver down his spine. It was like she was standing next to him, whispering in his ear. His heart felt like it was being ripped in two and yet, he always came back to the statue to talk to her.

"Yes?"

"When will you forgive me?" He didn't know.