Cullen

Cullen felt like his blood froze in his veins when the frantic woman kept screaming about 'her' being dead.

It can't be, please don't let it be Mahri...

Ashe grabbed the woman and tried to make her calm down but she was hysterical.

"Blood, b-blood everywhere!"

A sharp sound rang out when Ashe finally slapped the servant in the face.

"I'm sorry, but you need to calm down and tell us what's going on," Ashe said.

The woman looked surprised but had ceased her yelling. "I-I didn't know where else to go My Lady, I found... There's a murderer loose in these halls, My Lady! She... Maker, I saw it with my own eyes, so much blood!"

"Damn it woman, tell us where!" Cullen yelled, feeling sick to his stomach with dread over who they would find lying in that pool of blood the servant kept going on about. She turned and looked at him. "Y-yes, Commander, I'm sorry for my behavior. She's... that way." She pointed to the other side of the corridor and Cullen grabbed Ashe's hand and started walking swiftly in that direction.

"Cullen, we can't just leave her here if there's a killer around, she wouldn't be able to defend herself. You go, I'll stay h..."

Cullen stopped abruptly and cut her off. "No fucking way. I'm not letting you out of my sight. But if someone's done something to Mahariel, I need to know right now. Take her with us if you must."

Ashe only nodded and dragged the scared woman after the two of them.

They rounded a few corners and bends until they came across the scene.

"No, no, no, no! Shit, no, this is not happening..." Cullen whispered as he saw exactly what he'd feared before him. Mahariel, in a bloody mess on the floor, head propped up against the wall and blood gushing out of a nasty wound in her stomach. Her eyes... they were closed.

I was the one who brought her here. She didn't even want to come, but I begged her to. This is my fault.

Cullen vaguely heard Ashe order the servant to run and fetch the guards and a healer, and that she would have to be brave while Ashe and the Commander would try to help the Hero. Cullen bent down next to Mahariel, blood immediately sticking to his clothes. That's when he saw a second body lying almost hidden from view underneath Mahariel. Some sort of noblewoman by the looks of her extravagant dress. Young, pretty and completely soaked in blood. Her throat had been sliced open so deeply that it seemed a wonder that her head was still attached to the body at all.

"Fuck, Cullen, is Mahariel dead?" Ashe's voice was barely more than a whisper. Cullen felt bile rise in his throat but before he could nod in response, he heard Ashe yelp in surprise and his head snapped around to where she was standing. He was on his feet in less then a second, launching himself her way.

"Ashe, NO!"

Alistair

What a fucking night it had been. Not really how he'd pictured the first evening of celebrations. He'd looked forward to having Ashe with him, all to himself after they retired from the party that night. But then that fucking Rutherford had showed up, and with Mahariel of all people in Thedas. He still didn't even know how in the Void they even knew each other.

And Mahariel was so damned cold, as always. That's why he didn't want to see her, didn't want her to look at him. He would even have preferred her looking at him with hate or anger, something other than that cold indifference. It always did drive him mad, right from the moment they met when he was a hot-headed, young boy. She was always so calm and calculating, hard to read. He could never explain why they'd been drawn to each other romantically in the first place, but the attraction was undeniable all the same. He'd been so furious at her when she'd pushed to make him King, relentless and never once stopping to listen to him. He told her that it would mean the end for them, that he could never make her his queen, but that didn't stop her, it didn't even seem to faze her. It had hurt him so badly, more than he admitted even to himself. When he pleaded and begged, all he got in return was one of her cold stares, leaning her head to the side to watch him like a patient parent watched a child throwing a tantrum. It made him so angry. After he'd shouted himself raw, she'd just turned and left.

Alistair shook his head and tried to repress the memory. The things he'd said to her, the names he'd called her that day... She'd deserved it, to be sure, but he regretted his harsh tone anyway. And what he'd done after... He'd just been so mad, and desperate to get a reaction out of her, to force her to show some sort of emotion. He'd gotten it, all right. Maker, he didn't ever want to think about that again, and seeing her here like this made him think of nothing but. Oh, how he wanted to put his hands around Rutherford's throat and squeeze the fucking life out of him for doing this.

And then that nasty business with Hewlender. What in the Fade had gotten into the man? Alistair knew he was a power-hungry bastard but he'd always thought the man a coward. Trying to attack Ashe? In Alistair's own fucking palace no less, the nerve. He would have to speak to Ashe about this and find out all the details as soon as Mahariel laid off her claim on her. It was a pressing matter, of course, but he knew better than to challenge Mahariel when she'd made up her mind, so it would have to wait.

He waited for hours at the party in the grand hall for one of them to return, but when no one did, he gave up and left to retire to his quarters. On his way there, with his guards in tow, he suddenly got the feeling that he was being watched. He even thought he saw someone out of the corner of his eye but when he stopped and looked, there was no one there and none of his guards seemed to react in any way, and they were the elite of the elite.

Hmm, I could have sworn...

His mind conjured up images of blonde hair underneath a dark hood, broad shoulders underneath the cloak and... No, that wasn't possible, he hadn't even really seen anything. It must have been the stress of the evening playing tricks on him. He tried to shake off the feeling of unease when he arrived at his quarters and his guards did a quick sweep of them as always, before he retired to his bedroom with the guards outside.

Spending the night alone was not what he'd pictured this morning but he just sighed and reminded himself to be patient when his head hit the pillow.

He hadn't even fallen asleep yet when there was a pounding on his door.

"Your Majesty! There's been an attack, we're coming in straight away!"

Alistair didn't even have time to get out of bed before the door slammed open and guards poured into the room.

"What in Andraste's name in going on?" he mumbled while pulling a shirt over his head. "What sort of attack?" he asked, his voice louder and steadier now that he was dressed.

"I'm not sure, Your Majesty, we came here as soon as Company Four told us, they were on duty closest to the scene. Apparently... uhm, several people are dead."

Alistair stared at the man. Dead? "This is unacceptable! The second attack this night, inside my own walls! What the fuck am I paying you for, Captain? To prevent this sort of thing, not standing around looking pretty!"

The guard-captain lowered his eyes to the ground. "A thousand apologies, Your Majesty, I swear we'll get to the bottom of this."

Alistair scrambled into his armor.

"My King, there's one more thing." The captain still stared at the ground and Alistair felt like punching the man when he didn't continue.

"Well? Out with it!"

"I was told that... that Lady Mahariel and Inquisitor Trevelyan... I'm told that they're..." The captain trailed off, apparently unable to finish his sentence. Alistair froze and stared at him. "What the fuck do you mean? Have they apprehended the guilty party?"

The captain finally looked up. "No, Ser. I'm told that they are the victims. That... Your Majesty, I'm so sorry, that they're both dead."