Author's Note: Okay, I was able to get the next chapter up sooner than I expected! It's a bit longer than I meant it to be, and we only barely reach Lothering by the end. But I felt the scenes in here were important to show some characterization, and I wanted to at least get them to Lothering before I stopped. This one is from Alistair's POV as well. I think I'll go back to Ayla for the next chapter, though I'm not entirely sure yet. In later chapters, I might mix between two or more POVs in one chapter, but for now I'm sticking to one person per.

Thanks once more to those who have favorited and followed so far - it means a lot that you're enjoying the story! Special thanks go to Padme4000, who did another review for me :). I'm glad you enjoyed the previous chapter from Alistair's POV, it's always a bit nerve-wracking to use somebody else's established character as your own. I'm also glad you're enjoying Ayla's incorporation into the story so far! As for the dialogue, I really like to leave the original dialogue to the original characters as much as possible, so I'm glad you appreciate that! Special thanks also to Arialla MacAllister, who has been kind enough to review as well! I hope I can live up to the promise you see so far!

Please R&R! I love feedback and opinions, and it helps encourage me to write faster!

Disclaimer: As always, Bioware owns original characters and their dialogue, I own Ayla and everything else. Forgot to put this in for the last chapter, oops!

On the Road

Alistair had barely spoken a word since they'd been on the road to Lothering. It had been a day and a half since they'd left Flemeth's hut in the Wilds. He had found, to his dismay, that now that they were on the road and had a plan of action, that he could no longer dismiss his grief.

It seemed that his grief was now overwhelming him, since there were no distractions anymore. No concerns about whether his companions would wake up, or what they'd do when they did. He didn't even have to be responsible for getting them through the Wilds. Morrigan, he admitted grudgingly, was doing a fine job of getting them around the darkspawn on her own.

So, to his horror and shame, the first time he'd tried to speak upon leaving the hut, he'd felt tears threatening to spill out. He was a warrior. Duncan would never have cried if he'd been one of the only Grey Wardens left. He was determined not to cry. However, he found the only way he could manage that was if he barely spoke to anybody. So, he'd taken to hardly talking at all, and if anyone addressed him directly, he'd use one word answers or gestures to answer and brush them off.

He felt bad about it, especially about brushing off Ayla, as she'd tried to talk to him twice yesterday, trying to cheer him up and make him laugh, before giving up. But he was equally determined not to shame himself as a man and warrior by crying in front of her, so he tried to avoid her as much as possible. After the second time, she'd seemed to understand, and hadn't tried to engage him in conversation again. Instead, she'd spent all their time on the road and in the camp last night talking with Aedan, or Morrigan on the rare occasions she was around.

Morrigan seemed to like to go off ahead of the party by herself a lot, to scout the paths ahead, or so she said. Alistair had wondered once or twice if she should really go off by herself in darkspawn-infested Wilds, but since she'd come back fine every time, he concluded she could take care of herself. Last night, she'd even brought back some rabbits for their evening meal, as well as some herbs, and he'd found himself wondering how she'd caught them, since she wasn't in possession of any weapons he'd seen. Aedan and Ayla had also caught some game when they'd gone hunting, so between that, and the few loaves of bread and wheels of cheese Alistair had still had in his pack that Flemeth had apparently rescued, they'd actually had enough food to sustain all of them.

That wouldn't last, though, Alistair knew. They'd used up virtually all of the extra supplies he'd had, and Aedan had not had any food in his pack, just some money, weapons, and healing supplies. Ayla had not had a pack at all, and most of what Morrigan had was herbs used for healing or lyrium potions to sustain her magic. Alistair did have some money, a hundred silver pieces from his own Warden allowance, as well as what he'd picked up in the tower. Aedan had also managed to collect a few hundred silver pieces between escaping his former home and the tower, but neither of the women had any money.

They were going to need more money – a lot more money, Alistair knew. Besides the fact that it would take a lot of money to feed himself and Aedan, due to their vast Grey Warden appetites, there was also the matter of bolstering their healing supplies and their armor. They were either going to need to repair what armor he and Aedan had, or replace it altogether, as both their sets of splintmail had holes and damage from the darkspawn arrows. Besides that, he was also determined to get some sort of armor for Ayla. They were going to have to find a way to make some money in Lothering.

He glanced around at his companions as they traipsed along the road. They were getting close to Lothering – they should be able to make it there before dark. Morrigan was, for once, with the rest of the group. She and Aedan were in the lead at the moment, while he and Ayla took up the rear. He appreciated the fact that Ayla had been walking next to him for the last few hours, in a show of silent support. He knew he was going to have to start talking soon. After all, he'd have to bring up the discussion of money and what they were going to do for supplies.

Just as he was thinking that, and thinking that maybe he could talk right now without his grief overwhelming him, he noticed that Ayla looked distinctly disturbed. She was walking along the dirt road they were currently on, continually scanning the horizon, her hands tight on the hilts of her swords. He couldn't help but pick out the anxiety in her gaze and the fact that she looked like a distinctly ruffled cat.

"Ayla." He kept his voice low, and even still she almost jumped, before visibly forcing herself to relax and look up at him questioningly. "Is something the matter?" He was proud of himself; he'd gotten the entire sentence out without even feeling like he was going to tear up.

She looked around again. "No – yes – I don't know. I'm not used to this . . . darkspawn thing. It's so unnaturally quiet around here – and the smell – I'm finding it very difficult to relax. This isn't what I'm used to." She sounded almost annoyed at herself for letting her agitation show.

Alistair pondered her words as they walked. It was true that the wilderness around them was unnaturally silent, devoid of any normal wildlife noises one would experience. The darkspawn and the taint tended to do that. He was a little surprised she'd remarked on the smell – he couldn't recall smelling anything especially out of the ordinary on this section of the road.

Maybe he was just used to it, though. He had to admit that the silence no longer disturbed him, as in his past six months with the Grey Wardens, he'd spent as much time in darkspawn-infested wilderness as not. It was a little disconcerting to realize that he'd started to think of the absence of the life as normal, and was no longer bothered by it.

"I know – and I'm sorry," he said at last. He finally decided to say something he'd intended to say when they got to Lothering. "You know, I won't blame you if you decide you don't want to help any longer. The stakes are a lot higher now, and the odds of success a lot lower. I know this isn't what you agreed to when you asked to help."

He looked down at her, secretly hoping, though it was selfish, that she still wanted to come. She had turned her head to look up at him, and he was surprised to see a little bit of hurt and anger cross her features.

"Do you really think I would abandon you now?" she asked quietly, her voice deliberately even as though to keep anger out of it. "If anything, you need my help far more now than you did before. In fact, I rather think this is the reason why I'm here, because now you need help anywhere you can manage to get it. And I made the deal – on my honor, as a warrior, to help you end the Blight. I intend to hold up my end of the bargain, if you intend to hold up yours." She pierced him with an intense gaze.

He held up his hands defensively. He hadn't realized the question would anger her so much, although the fact that she'd stressed the word honor hadn't escaped him. He realized it might've sounded a little bit like he'd questioned her honor. "Of course I intend to hold up my end of the bargain, if we get through this alive! I just – wanted to be fair to you, since this is a far more complicated situation than you first expected, or agreed to. I'm sorry if I offended you – I didn't mean to."

She seemed to relax, and even gave him a wry grin. "Apology accepted. And, to be fair, may I point out that you have no idea how complicated holding up your end of the bargain might be?"

He actually found himself chuckling before he stopped in shock. Did I just do that? Apparently, she had succeeded in sufficiently distracting him from his grief. Maybe he'd be able to deal with this after all. He smiled down at her, in thanks and in agreement. "I suppose that's true. Who knows, you might end up owing me after all this is done."

The answering smile that broke across her face nearly took his breath away. It made lights dance in her green eyes. "We'll see who owes who once this is all over with. But I am sticking with you until the end."

"I am relieved to hear it, my lady." He gave her a mocking bow, though in truth he was very relieved to hear that she was going to stay.

It was at that moment he felt the familiar and sickening tingle along the base of his neck and down his spine that meant darkspawn were nearing. He turned his head to look down the road, at the same time as Ayla did. "Darkspawn approaching!"

As soon as he said it, he heard the sound of barking. Suddenly, a gigantic mabari war hound came running down the road towards them. Just as Alistair was putting his hand to his sword, the hound screeched to a stop in front of Aedan, tongue lolling, and wagged his tail.

"Striker!" Aedan was down on his knee in an instant, wrapping his arms around the dog's thick neck. It gave him a swipe of the tongue alongside his neck in return.

"No time for that!" Alistair warned as he drew his sword. A band of darkspawn had come charging down the road following the dog.

He ran past Aedan and Morrigan, shield and sword out. Ayla was at his side, keeping pace easily. Aedan straightened up, and moved out to Alistair's right, as he'd done in the tower. The hound, Striker, streaked past them and flung itself at the first approaching genlock, which went down with a shriek under a hundred and fifty pounds of mabari. A bolt of lightning shot past them and struck the next approaching genlock, lighting it up with electricity.

Alistair took point, as he'd done in the tower, knowing that it made the most tactical sense, as he was the biggest and the only one with a shield. He rammed the first one he saw with said shield, knocking it easily to the ground. Before he could even finish it off with his sword, Ayla was already there, separating its head from its shoulders.

They continued on in that fashion, he providing a distraction and knocking down the enemy as much as possible, while Ayla took advantage of their distraction. Aedan and his hound pursued a similar course of action, while Morrigan continued her offensive magic from behind them. It was a help, Alistair had to admit, although he could've sworn once or twice the bolts got rather closer to hitting him than they should have. Between the four of them and the hound, however, they made fairly short work of the darkspawn.

Alistair had to admit to feeling distinctly more like himself by the time they'd finished the battle. Fighting was something that had always cleared his mind. They all wiped off and re-sheathed their weapons, and Striker trotted back over to Aedan, tail wagging again.

"Good boy," Aedan murmured, wrapping an arm around the dog's neck again. "You must have found your way out of the Wilds and back to me, huh?" The dog licked his face again and barked in response.

Alistair was a little surprised at Aedan's reaction, until it suddenly dawned on him that the hound was likely the only thing Aedan had left of his family and former life. With all that had happened at Ostagar, Alistair had nearly forgotten that Aedan had lost as much – if not more – than he had. He felt ashamed for his reaction over the last day and a half all over again. Aedan had been holding it together much better than him.

Ayla came over to Aedan and Striker. "What a handsome dog and good fighter you are." She knelt in front of the dog, offering her hand. "My name is Ayla, it is my honor to meet you."

Striker turned from his master, sniffed her hand, barked, and then plopped a massive paw into her outstretched hand. She shook it gravely, and the dog wagged its short stub of a tail again. She let his paw down gently before standing up and patting the dog on his head.

Alistair noted that Aedan was staring at her in outright amazement. He knew that mabari imprinted themselves on one person – in this case Aedan – and while they could still be friendly with other people, it usually required their master's say-so first. Ayla had managed to somehow effortlessly charm the dog. Just like she's done to you, he thought to himself wryly.

"Does this mean we'll have this mangy beast following us about now? Wonderful," Morrigan's tone as she came up to the others was completely scathing, as usual.

"Hey, he's not mangy!" Alistair protested. Partly because he himself had always wanted a mabari, but never had the opportunity, and partly just to disagree with Morrigan. She hadn't resisted any opportunity to needle him so far, even though he'd avoided responding to her until now.

"Indeed," Ayla agreed, smiling down at the dog. "He's a brave warrior, and sure to be a big help in our fight."

Striker barked and danced around in agreement. Aedan stood up again, smiling the most genuine smile Alistair had seen on him so far. "It is good to have you back, old friend. I am glad you found your way to us alive." Aedan turned to Morrigan. "Are we nearly there now?"

Morrigan sighed heavily, as if realizing she was entirely alone in her dislike of the dog. "Indeed, tis only a couple more hours down this road. We should continue moving. It would be best to reach Lothering by nightfall."

They continued down the road past the darkspawn corpses, now with one extra party member. Alistair felt better than he had since waking up in the hut, and began to hope he might be able to manage his grief.

True to Morrigan's word, they spotted Lothering on the horizon inside of a couple of hours. The dirt road they were on turned into a stone highway of sorts as it got closer to the town, which served almost as a bridge just above and to the west of the bulk of the town.

As they got closer to the archway of stone and the stairs that led down into the town, they noticed that the way ahead was blocked by a band of men, surrounded by piles of boxes and carts. One man stood out in front of the others, clearly the leader. As they drew even closer, Alistair saw a dead body lying against the stone wall to the side.

He felt his fists tighten in anger. "Highwaymen, praying on those fleeing the darkspawn," he whispered to Ayla, who was still at his side.

Before she could respond, the man out in front hailed them. "Look, more travellers to attend to. This one looks like the leader." He addressed Aedan, who had remained in front. His regal bearing, well-crafted, if holey, armor and gleaming sword practically screamed nobleman, so it was no wonder the bandit thought he was the leader, Alistair mused. Not that he minded. He'd rather leave the leadership of this whole endeavour to someone else. He didn't want the ultimate responsibility for the Blight and everyone's lives on him, or he really would have a breakdown.

A big, dim-witted looking man next to the falsely jovial leader spoke up. There were a few more men behind these two. All of them wore leather armor, and were rather scruffy looking. Typical bandits, and Alistair didn't think they would pose any great threat to their group. "These don't look like them others. Maybe we should let them pass."

"Oh, please don't," Ayla drawled. "It would be so much more interesting if you tried to get in our way."

Alistair looked down at her in surprise. Her hands were on her swords, and she was practically vibrating with her eagerness to draw them. Her beautiful green eyes were gleaming with anticipation. While he wouldn't mind disposing of the bandits himself, as he thought that what they were doing, preying on the desperation and fear of the refugees fleeing the darkspawn, was the lowest thing one person could do to another, he wasn't anticipating the fight with the same whole-hearted glee she seemed to be employing. However, he found himself surprisingly aroused by her reaction, which he didn't think was strictly healthy either.

"They are fools to get in our way. I say teach them a lesson," Morrigan agreed with Ayla, crossing her arms disdainfully.

"Now is that any way to greet someone!" the bandit leader exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "Tsk tsk tsk. A simple ten silvers and you're free to move on."

Alistair looked towards Aedan, wondering what he would do. Aedan placed one hand, ever so casually, on the hilt of his greatsword. "You should listen to your friend. We're not refugees." The threat in his voice was clear.

"What did I tell you?" The big one spoke up. "No wagons, and they all look armed."

The bandit leader shook his head, clearly exasperated. "The toll applies to everyone. That's why it's a toll, and not say, a refugee tax."

"Oh right. Even if you're no refugee you still gotta pay," the big one agreed, as though this were a brilliant idea.

Alistair looked at the band of bandits, wondering if they were suicidal. They were willing to face down three armed warriors, a woman who was obviously a mage, and a mabari hound for ten silvers? Well, if they wanted to die, it wasn't really his problem, Alistair supposed.

"Forget it, we're not paying." Aedan's voice now held an edge of anger to go along with the threat, and Striker started growling.

The bandit leader shook his head mournfully, as if they were the ones with a death wish. "Well, I can't say I'm pleased to hear that. We have rules, you know."

The big one nodded, drawing his sword. "Right, we get to ransack your corpse then, those are the rules."

"You can certainly try," Aedan replied, before drawing his own sword.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Ayla shot past him, taking a flying leap at the big bandit, swords first. The man was so startled; he didn't even swing his sword in time. As with the ogre, she struck him full in the chest, knocking him backwards. She yanked her swords out and finished the job with a ruthless stroke.

His heart in his throat, Alistair had shot after her, mindful of her armor-less state. It was fortunate he had, because he was able to block the sword of another bandit on his shield that had been swinging straight for her unprotected back. He pivoted so that he was in front of Ayla, protecting her from the others, as he thrust his shield forward to knock the bandit off balance. He began to engage the man in attack.

The battle was joined behind him. Aedan was fighting with the bandit leader, Striker had taken down one of the others, and Morrigan had cast a freezing spell on a fourth one. There was one more bandit remaining who was climbing up on top of a crate to start shooting his bow; however, Ayla had leapt up after him. It didn't take long for Alistair and the others to finish off the bandits. While they could certainly pose trouble for refugees, none of the bandits had anywhere near the level of fighting experience they did.

The bandit leader had attempted to surrender when he realized all his men were dead. At least, Alistair thought he had. He'd stopped fighting Aedan and held up his sword, but before he could say whatever he'd been about to, Ayla had leapt down from the crate where she'd dispatched the archer and run him through with both swords. Aedan had merely shrugged, apparently undisturbed at this turn of events, and Morrigan had looked almost pleased.

Alistair couldn't quite decide his own reaction as they all stood for a moment catching their breath. On the one hand, he was a little surprised at Ayla's ruthlessness and careless disregard for her own safety in fighting the bandits. On the other hand, as she stood there, face flushed and chest heaving from her exertions, eyes aglow, he couldn't recall ever being more aroused in his life. There had to be something wrong with that, he thought. But at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to yank her in his arms and kiss her senseless. He was probably seconds away from doing just that when Aedan's voice brought him back to his senses.

"Search the bodies," Aedan directed. He was already crouched down next to the bandit leader, rifling through his pockets and satchel. "We need all the money and supplies we can get."

Alistair took a deep breath, steadying himself before he knelt next to the bandit he'd killed. They all went through the bandits' belongings, looting all the money, health poultices and other supplies they could find. The crates they decided to leave; they wouldn't be able to carry those along anyway. Once they'd finished, Aedan directed them to continue on towards the stairs leading down off the highway to Lothering.

Ayla was back to her normal self, Alistair noted as they approached the stairs. Or what he knew as her normal self, anyway. He had to remind himself he didn't really know her that well at all. She'd found an intact pack among the bandits' supplies that she'd decided to use as her own, and had it slung over her shoulder. She'd also liberated some of the bandits' weapons, saying that they could sell them in town, which Alistair admitted the wisdom of. He'd decided that at some point, when they had a chance to talk alone, he was going to ask her about her reaction to the bandits, among other things. But now was not the time for that.

They all stopped as they reached the stairs leading down to Lothering, taking in the view of the settlement below. It was currently packed to the brim with people and tents, far busier than when Alistair had last passed this way. He decided a little of his old humor was called for. He spread his arms out to indicate the view below. "Well, there it is. Lothering, pretty as a painting."

Morrigan snorted. "Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble I take it?"

"Morrigan," Ayla snarled in warning. Alistair turned to look at her, surprised she'd made the snarl so realistic. Her voice was normally quite light and pleasant. He was also a little pleased she was standing up for him, and that Morrigan looked fairly shocked at this fact. But he'd had quite enough of the witch.

"Is my being upset so hard to understand?" He snapped in return. Now that he'd found he could speak without the choking grief, it was time to let the witch have it. "Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"

Morrigan crossed her arms and smirked at him. "Before or after I stopped laughing?"

Alistair groaned to himself. He thought her flash of hurt back at the hut meant she might be a little human. Now he could see he'd been entirely wrong. "Right, very creepy, forget I asked."

"Enough!" Aedan snapped, striding in between the two of them. "What did you want to talk about, Alistair?"

"His navel, I suspect," Morrigan taunted. "He certainly has been contemplating it for long enough."

Alistair scowled at her. "Oh, I get it, this is the part where we're shocked to discover how you've never had a friend in your entire life."

"I can be friendly when I desire to. Alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so."

Alistair was about to make a bristling comment to this last remark when Ayla laid a hand on his arm. He swore he could feel the touch burning him through his splintmail as he looked at her. She shook her head at him, seeming to be resigned to the fact that Morrigan was not going to stop being a bitch. "It's not worth it, Alistair. But she's right, you have been very quiet."

Alistair sighed, covering her hand with his own. "You're right, I'm sorry." He didn't offer an explanation, however, too embarrassed to discuss it in front of Morrigan, of all people. Instead, he turned to Aedan. "Anyway, I thought we should talk about where we intend to go first."

Aedan arched a brow. "You have some thoughts on that point, Alistair?"

"This should be good," Morrigan mumbled acidly.

Alistair shot a glare at her, but left it alone. "I think what Flemeth suggested is the best idea. These treaties . . . have you looked at them?"

Aedan nodded. "Yes, I have. I read them over at the camp last night."

Encouraged by the fact that Aedan was listening so far, Alistair continued. "There are three main groups that we have treaties for: the Dalish elves, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi. I also still think that Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first."

Ayla nodded in agreement. She had since taken her hand away, and Alistair found that he sorely missed it. "If you know this Arl, that might be the wisest thing to do. We might have a better chance of getting immediate help from him than the other groups, unless someone has a personal tie to any of these other ones you mentioned." She looked at the others, but they shook their heads in response.

Aedan crossed his arms, seeming to consider all the points made as he gazed out over Lothering. "Why are you leaving it up to me?" he asked at last, turning back to Alistair. "You're the senior Warden, shouldn't you be in charge?"

Alistair had been dreading this question, especially in front of Morrigan. He'd hoped Aedan would just take over the leadership without question. He was a nobleman's son, after all, born and bred to lead. Whereas Alistair himself had been born and bred to follow. He was not about to try to change that now, when so much was at stake.

He sighed. "Maybe I am the senior Warden, but only by a few months. I don't know much more than you do. You've been taught to lead, I haven't. So I'm leaving the leading up to you, since I don't know where we should go. If you have any questions about the Wardens or want advice, I'll help, but I'll do whatever you decide."

"Now that is unsurprising," Morrigan drawled.

"Oh, shut up for once," Ayla snapped at her. She turned to Aedan. "I'll help in any way I can too. I have led troops before, but I know nothing about what's going on in this country, so I can't be of much help with the final decisions. But, like Alistair said, I'll be happy to provide my opinion if you'd like."

Aedan nodded. "I appreciate the sentiment, both of you. All right, Alistair. I'll take the lead on the Blight. But I'd like everybody to offer their opinions, and I'll try to take everybody's advice into consideration before I make final decisions. Do you know where all these people are, Alistair? I'm afraid I wasn't the best geography student."

Alistair sighed in relief. The burden of leadership was off him, and better yet, Aedan sounded like he'd be a fair leader that Alistair could respect. He almost sounded like Duncan, in fact. "I do actually know where they are. Duncan and I talked it over after the Joining."

He told Aedan the locations – that the circle of Magi was probably the closest, to the north by Lake Calenhad, just past Redcliffe. The Brecilian Forest to the east was where they could find a clan of Dalish elves, though how long exactly that would take would be anybody's guess, since the nomadic elves never stayed in one place very long. Finally, the dwarves in Orzammar were far to the north, in the Frostback Mountains, and would probably take many weeks to reach.

"All right," Aedan said, clapping his hands together after Alistair finished. "I think we should go to Redcliffe first. It's the closest, and anyway, as Ayla said, our chances of getting aid are probably highest there. We'll decide which of the treaties to fill after Redcliffe. I'm ready to get going if the rest of you are."

Everybody nodded in agreement, and Alistair felt relieved. Not only was Aedan taking his advice, but he was sure that Arl Eamon would be of great help to them, and would know exactly what they should do. He grinned at Aedan. "Fair enough. Let's head into the village whenever you're ready."

Aedan led the way down the stairs into the village, and the rest of them followed. Alistair was relieved that everything was going well so far, and could only hope that their trip into Lothering was uneventful. At the very least, he now had two people with him that he felt he could trust. Maybe things would turn out okay after all.

Second A/N: I decided that Alistair's uncharacteristic quietness on the way to Lothering is simply a way to hold in his grief. Personally, I hate crying in front of others, and I find if I avoid talking when I feel all teary-eyed, I can avoid crying. I decided Alistair must be the same. But once he's had a little time, and has something else to focus on (Ayla's worry and the battle) he's able to go back to himself for the most part. Also, I changed up the original dialogue between him and Aedan a bit here. I felt that he and the Warden character never really actually address the whole "Alistair isn't going to lead" thing until much later. I thought it made more sense for them to establish the boundaries of their relationship right away, so I decided to do that here. Hopefully this makes sense to everybody!