This is a requested story. The formatting is strange because the original place of posting only allows 4400 words per post. I am stringing multiple posts together here because I've had complaints in the past that chapters are too short.

Here's the original request:

So an M!Warden has the option of chasing after Morrigan when the Blight is over...why doesn't an F!Warden have the option to chase after Alistair?

Prompt: Any F!Warden (admit a preference for Amell) in love with Alistair chooses to spare Loghain at the Landsmeet due to practicality - more Wardens, better chance of success, right? She's totally broken up over it when Alistair flips his shit and leaves, and the minute the Archdemon is slain she starts searching for him to make things right.

Looking for heavy angst (especially F!Warden doubting if she did the right thing by sparing Loghain), and leave it up to anon if there's a happy ending or not. (Though everyone loves a happy ending! XD) Sexytimes wherever you see fit to put them, in any context. I feel like this would be a fairly long piece by its very nature, so I'm going to cross my fingers that there's an awesome anon out there who picks this up!

Part 1: Seeking Alistair

Sheri swept down the hallway, the skirts of her robe whispering Alistair's name with every step. It seemed she heard or thought of Alistair with every move she made. She heard his name in the dripping of water, she heard his voice in crowds. She saw his face in dreams.

He was everywhere, which was simply unfair, because he was nowhere to be found.

"No, Ser," the man walking beside her and barely keeping up was saying. "We haven't been able to find a man answering to his description. But—can you please slow down?—there have been reports of a man by his name in—"

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "Where?" she demanded shortly, forgoing courtesy for expediency. Then she sighed. Wasn't that what got her into this mess to begin with? Indeed it was.

"In Orzammar, Ser. But getting more out of the dwarves is…" he shrugged and she chuckled.

"That's got to be him. They're unwaveringly loyal to him, they wouldn't talk about him if he asked for them to hold their peace."

"Indeed," the mercenary replied. "You may wish to know that the dwarf who said that a man named Alistair might be staying at the inn there, only said so after we told him it was you who was looking."

"Red hair? Beard flask, multiple braids?"

"Why, yes, how'd you—"

"Oghren! Maker bless you, you little bastard." She breathed. She had an ally—odd as that fact might be. Oghren had actually taken off with Alistair, bellowing at Shari the whole way.

"Ser?" the mercenary was looking at her oddly.

"Thank you, you're dismissed," she told him. Then she went in search of Brinn. She would leave him in charge while she went in search of the love of her life.

"Brinn, this is not open to debate. You are completely trained and capable, that's why you were sent here. I'm going to find him. I don't answer to the Queen, and I don't answer to you."

"You are being very irresponsible," Brinn argued, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin sticking out. "You don't even know if this man wants to see you again. He left for a reason, you should honor that. We need you here."

"I'm going. If you had family you'd lost, wouldn't you go search for them?"

Brinn scowled openly at her. "He's not your family."

"Not yet," Shari told him. "But if I have anything to say about it, he will be." She walked out on him and shut the door. She understood his viewpoint, but she wouldn't hide in Amaranthine a day longer while Alistair believed she had betrayed him without care.

Now that she knew where he was, and since Brinn was fully trained, there was nothing holding her back anymore.

"Alistair," she said out loud into the corridor. "You can run, but you can't hide." She hefted the last pack onto her back and left the Arling behind, going out the front doors like a woman set loose.

She harbored hope deep in her heart, but she knew that Alistair had justification for his anger. And she didn't know how to convince him she loved him, because in her heart, she agreed with him.

Loghain had set himself up as King, betrayed everything good and decent in Ferelden. And she had let him live. She knew she couldn't convince Alistair that she'd done the right thing. She could barely remember now why she'd done it at all—despite the way it had turned out—but she could tell Alistair that she had made reparation for what she'd done.

Maybe… maybe it would be enough.

Part 2: Seeking Alistair

Sheri traveled to Orzammar without incident. It was rather surprising, given that there were still roving bands of Darkspawn, some wolves, various bandit bands, and other issues to deal with. But she met nothing that she couldn't handle, and the journey was swift.

When she got there, it took only a short time to find Oghren. He was fully drunk and just as fully crotchety.

"He don't want ta see ya," he grunted at her. "He figgered out ya was coming, an' he left."

She crossed her arms, put one leg up on the chair beside him and leaned forward to stare directly into his face. "And how, pray tell, did he know I was coming, Oghren?"

"Someone mighta let it slip that you was lookin' for him," Oghren said, then belched.

She didn't let that deter her. "Someone, Oghren, or you?"

"Can't blame me! I didn't make ya save Loghain!"

She sat heavily across from him. "Oghren, I had little choice. Only the Wardens can kill the Archdemon. There were three of us. Three, Oghren. Think about that for a minute. Three people against countless Darkspawn and a tainted, twisted high dragon."

"We was with ya, it wasn't just three people." Oghren took a swig of ale and shouted for a new flagon.

"Yes. But how hard is it for three people to be wiped out in that kind of fighting, those kinds of odds? It isn't that I thought the army would lose, Oghren, it's that all of us stood the chance of dying—all three of us. The odds of us all dying were higher than the odds of us all living."

"Who ya tryin' to convince, Sheri? Ya make it sound so practical… but ya didn't fuss about it before then. The pair of yous coulda died anytime." Oghren took a deep drink and stared at her out of bleary, red-rimmed eyes.

She looked away. She suddenly didn't want to discuss all of this. Oghren was wrong, she had tried several times to convince Alistair they needed to rebuild before facing the Archdemon.

It didn't really matter though. She still felt guilt about it. She truly hoped that Alistair would forgive her, but she often thought she would live the rest of her life—a fortunately short one—with the guilt.

"Where'd he go, Oghren?"

"Bloody bronto behind, how the Fade should I know?" Oghren snapped at her. "Ye think he's gonna tell me? I already telled on him once."

She leaned across the table. "I don't think he'd tell you. But I still think you know. You're drinking like a sieve with an extra hole—a big one."

"'E went into the Underground." Oghren belched a rolling cloud of stench. "I ain't sure if he's runnin' from you, or tryin' to kill hisself. Either way, 'e went in there alone and nigh on to kilt me when he caught me followin'."

She stood up and turned to leave.

"Ye ain't goin' in there, is ya?"

"Yes, Oghren. If Alistair went, I go, too. I'll honor what he wants, but not until I've said my piece and told him one more time that I…"

"Well then I'll be goin' with ya. And Leliana's gonna wanna go, too."

She crossed her arms and stared at the dwarf. "Anyone else?" she asked wryly.

"Ah… Shale might be still lurkin' around the entrance to the Mines," he said, as if trying to get out of saying it.

She sighed. "Very well."

They left the tavern, Oghren somehow managing to walk straight more often than he swerved.

Part 3: Seeking Alistair

Sheri greeted Shale simply, "Let's go, if you're coming."

Shale fell in beside her. "Is It going after Alistair, then?"

"Yes."

"One wonders why It waited so long."

Sheri shot her a disgusted look, but didn't respond. What could she say? She could try to defend herself, but none of her arguments had convinced her, why should she expect them to convince anyone else.

"Well, one can hope that later really is better than never." Shale stumped along beside her, leaving the stone ringing behind them.

Sheri ignored the arguing, disguised as friendly banter, as they walked along. The others chatted easily, killed freely, and seemed fully at peace. But her own thoughts continually crept back to the question of why Alistair was there, and how she could help him understand the need for what she'd done.

So she took a deep breath and plunged into the Deep Trenches after the only man she'd ever loved besides the father and the brother she could barely remember anymore. Despite having killed the Darkspawn and the spiders all the way there, the whole of the Deep Roads had been filled with them all over again.

Yet they'd seen constant proof that Alistair had come that way. Even Ruck had admitted to having seen him.

Thus, when they arrived at the Deep Trenches and found only dwarves fighting the Darkspawn coming across the bridge, Sheri felt a moment of shocked fear.

"I came looking for Alistair," she told one of the dwarves as she helped push back an especially large clump of Darkspawn, washing the man over with a Heal just before she spoke.

They fought furiously for a few moments, and then the dwarf turned to her. "Red haired human fellow?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes, that would be Alistair," she told him.

"'E was here. He knew you'd be 'ere soon. He decided he wasn't ready for this, after all. He doesn't want to die, he said, but he can't deal with seeing ye, neither. So 'e's off to Antiva." The dwarf turned away to fight more Darkspawn.

They helped for several hours, Sheri pondering the discussion. The up side of the whole thing was that Alistair wasn't ready to die. But he couldn't handle seeing her. Did that mean he didn't want to? Or that he was afraid if he saw her, he might forgive her?

She decided that she would find out for sure. She would go to Antiva. She knew which way he would go. He would take a ship, because he would believe she'd never take one to follow him. He knew her complete terror of water, and he would take advantage of it.

That fact alone nearly undid her. If he did take a ship, he probably really didn't want her to follow him.

Then, Leliana pointed something out to her. Maybe he'd take a ship just to see exactly how sorry she truly was.

It was surprising, because at first they'd argued that he wouldn't go, that he was trying to mislead her. But she'd pointed out that he didn't lie. If he'd said he was going to Antiva, he was going. He'd hide the truth, that much was true. But he didn't actually lie.

The return trip through the Deep Roads was much faster. Because he'd taken a route intended to avoid them, it was likely that he'd been delayed some. So they were still only a few days behind him… still long enough that she feared they might not catch up.

So they moved quickly out of the Deep Roads. In Orzammar, it almost seemed as if he'd gone out of his way to make sure he'd be seen, and they'd know he'd left already. It was almost like a game—but one that Sheri had to admit she didn't like at all.

Part 4: Seeking Alistair

They emerged from Orzammar, and instead of heading towards Antiva, they actually headed the other way. It wasn't long before her decision was confirmed. Their first Alistair sighting was at the Lake Calenhad docks at the Spoiled Princess. He'd passed through three days ago, but stayed the night.

Sheri didn't. She pushed onwards into the darkness. The others grumbled, but kept up. They met only one group of bandits over the next two days as they traveled. With great speed, they dispatched them.

"It's uncanny the way they do that," Leliana said to Shale one evening.

"What is it talking about?" Shale asked in her resonant, warm voice.

"The birds. Do they always follow you like that?"

"Yes. One would think they expect it to shit birdseed, the way they follow. It's why One spends its time in Orzammar."

Sheri sighed. This was the sort of inane conversation she could expect all the way to Antiva. She wondered how she was going to manage to talk with Alistair when they were constantly blathering on about completely inconsequential and trivial subjects.

She had to convince him that she regretted what she'd done, while still letting him know that she hadn't intended to betray him. She felt strange because it seemed as if the two ideas were mutually exclusive. She wanted on the one hand to be able to say, "You know, I'm sorry I did it, but it was the right thing to do, and it turned out more right than you can ever imagine," without making it sound like the action wasn't worth the outcome.

The closer they got to the docks, the more indications came that they were catching up. By the sixth day, Sheri realized that he would probably be at the tavern in the next town. She wouldn't have to get on the ship. She could avoid the water and the sailing entirely.

"Maybe he needs to know he's worth facing your worst fear for" rang in her mind. Leliana had a point. Even if Alistair didn't hope for that… Sheri would still give that to him.

So she skipped the tavern and traveled into the night. When they got to the docks, they soon learned that he hadn't arrived yet.

But there were two ships setting sail within the week. One in two days, and the other in three days. The one in three days claimed it was better to avoid the end of the Monsoon season, but the other brushed the danger off.

Sheri, being a nervous sort, payed off the first ship to not take Alistair. She explained that it was a romantic thing, and would he please refuse Alistair so that she could be on the same ship as he and surprise him. The Captain, a short, round man who claimed he had "a woman in every port," agreed because "love is such a beautiful thing."

Then, with some degree of regret, Sheri sent the others on their way. Each one of them, before they left, gave her something to give to Alistair. Oghren gave her a new, waterproof pack. As a joke, it was filled with corncobs. "That way, 'e can throw it in after ye if he throws ye overboard in anger," Oghren laughed.

It was a good joke, but also an excellent backpack.

Leliana gave her a camp cookware kit. Alistair had been staying at inns, and even when they'd been traveling with him, he hadn't been any good at cooking.

Shale's gift was several lengths of rope. She simply said that it was a joke, and he would probably understand it. If he didn't, though, she guessed he could probably use rope anyway.

Sheri suspected Shale hoped he would hang her with it. Really, though, Shale had heard that rock climbing was a sport in Antiva, and Alistair had once jokingly said he'd go there and take it up before he died.

They all left, and the day came to board the ship. Her heart in her throat, Sheri climbed on and crept down to the cabin she'd been assigned. She had watched from across the street, and Alistair had tried to book passage on the other ship and been turned away.

Thus it was no surprise when she saw him coming onto the ship, packs in hand. She would have bailed if they'd prepared to set off and he'd not come, but there he was. Now she had no choice. Her course was set.

She scampered to her cabin and heard Alistair's voice as he passed and was shown into the cabin beside hers. Her heart thundered in her chest and her breath stopped for several moments.

Part 5: Seeking Alistair

She paced restlessly, touching the wall between their cabins now and then as she heard him moving about next door. She wouldn't ruin it by running over and groveling at his feet—no matter how much she wanted to.

And she really, really wanted to. She wanted to more than she'd wanted anything in her life, because they were sitting at dock and her stomach was tied up in knots so badly she could barely think. Let it never be said that he wasn't more important than anything else in her life…

It seemed like eternity before the ship finally lurched away from the dock. She heard Alistair in his room, he was singing something he surely had learned at some bar since the whole 'Loghain incident.' It was loud, bawdy, and to put it conservatively and kindly, very off-key.

To her, it was the most beautiful music she'd ever heard. Which was good thing, because she could only cling desperately to her cot as the ship sloshed and bucked on its way out of the port.

What in Thedas was she doing on a ship? Panic tore through her and for a moment she forgot everything, including Alistair, and she climbed under the cot and began to wail.

It started out quietly, but as the rocking of the ship increased and it bounced away from land, she felt the terror rising. With it, her voice began to rise.

She dimly heard herself, and grabbed her staff. Unashamed, she bit down on it, trying desperately to stem the keening wail of fear that rolled out of her as violently as the deck below her.

Little did she realize that these were perfectly calm seas, and what was to come would make this seem as smooth as the straightest of walls to her.

A knock at the door startled a yelp out of her.

"Are you okay?"

She panicked. It was Alistair! Leave it to him to be the one to hear her—being in the cabin next door notwithstanding.

"Yes," she croaked out.

"Seasick already, huh?"

"Yes." Wow, she was a master communicator.

"Well, I'm right next door, let me know if there's anything I can get for you."

He waited and she tried to come up with something to say. "Thanks!" she finally managed.

He clumped away, and she wondered idly before the next wave of terror hit her, why he wasn't wearing his armor. But she supposed that being covered in metal was probably a good way to be an anchor, rather than a floater.

Which got her to thinking about what might happen if he was swept overboard—or worse, what if she was? He could swim a bit, he'd once told her. She was a mage, she'd lived on the edge of the Lake and never once been in it, much less learned to swim.

She heard him next door, and this time his singing wasn't quite so bawdy. She smiled in her misery. Leave it to Alistair to treat a woman he couldn't even see like a lady.