Ashe
Burning.
Maker, she felt like she was on fire. Was she?
A scream tore itself out of her throat and she became vaguely aware of hands gripping her arms. The feeling of mind-shattering panic took a hold of her so strong that she couldn't see how this was anything other than the end of her.
"Help me, please!" she pleaded before she inhaled and let out another pained scream.
"Maker's breath, Ashe, please... Somebody do something!"
Who... is that? Alistair? Cull...
"Ahhhh! Please, please, make it stop!"
A new spike of red, hot pain threatening to consume her was the last thing she felt before the blackness took her again.
She woke up and shot up to a sitting position. Maker, the burning... it felt like she'd been in flames only a second ago, but the pain was gone now. She drew in deep breaths, relieved beyond measure to feel the cold air fill her lungs.
"Ashe?"
Someone whispered her name and she looked up slowly, and through the strands of hair sticking down in front of her face she saw Cullen kneeling at the side of the bed.
Safe. If he's here, you're safe.
She let out a sob and threw herself against him, her arms around his neck, burying her face against his chest. Normally such behavior was unthinkable, showing such weakness in any situation was unacceptable. But she couldn't help it now. She felt as if she'd been stuck in the deepest, darkest corner of the Fade – to be forgotten in excruciating pain for all eternity - and Cullen... He was home.
"Hush, it's alright, love, I'm here for you, nothing is going to happen to you," he said softly while pressing her tighter against him, his hand stroking her hair soothingly. "I won't ever let anything happen to you again."
A flashing thought of how he wouldn't be able to keep that promise forever passed through her head, but she forgot as he held her tighter. Right now, she believed him.
They sat like that for a long time, with Cullen comforting her while the panic she felt slowly faded. Finally, Cullen spoke. "Ashe, do you remember what happened?"
Her mind immediately went to the memory of the burning in the Fade but she steeled herself not to think about. "I... I remember someone knocking on our door. We... Maker, Mahariel! Is she alright?"
She leaned back so she could see Cullen's face. His expression...
"No," she whispered.
He looked up at her and there were tears in his eyes. Through everything they'd been through together, she'd never once seen him cry.
"She's gone. And I thought that I'd..." He took Ashe's hands in his own and brought them to his lips and kissed them tightly while a single teardrop spilled down onto her skin. "I thought I'd lost you too."
It seemed impossible. The Hero of Ferelden, dead? What about - "Maker's breath, where is Alistair?" she asked. He must be beside himself with grief.
Cullen's eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. "He's busy. Ferelden is in an official state of mourning and he has his hands full avoiding a wide-spread panic. The Hero of Ferelden, dead, in his own palace of all places. Everyone has all sorts of questions. About you, too."
Ashe felt confusion grip her. "What questions? How long have I been out? Haven't you seized whoever it was that did this yet?"
Cullen shook his head. "A few days. Regarding who attacked you, I wish I could give you a different answer, but no. Whoever it was is long gone. Hawke left as soon as he was certain that you'd survive. He took off alone, to search for answers he said."
Anger. Ashe let it fill her up, pushing all fear to the side. This sort of thing, she knew how to deal with. She would hunt down the one who'd tried to hurt her, and – Maker, killed Mahariel. She'd make them pay.
She tried to stand up.
"What do you think you're doing, Ashe?" Cullen grabbed her arms to steady her.
"I'm going to see Alistair and then I'm getting to the bottom of this."
"You're not well yet, don't..." Cullen started but she cut him off.
"All the fucking way down to the bottom, do you understand me?" she said, and he must have seen the determination in her eyes because he sighed and nodded.
"Fine. But if you think I'm letting you out of my sight for one second before we've caught the one who did this to you, you're sorely mistaken.
"Fine. But no Maker damned arguments with Alistair, then. We've more important things to do."
He only grunted in response to that. "By the way, I think maybe you should run a comb through your hair and, uhm, get dressed, before you go out the door.
Ashe stopped and caught a look at herself in the mirror leaning against the wall.
"Maker's breath. You might be right about that."
Cullen
"You have five minutes and not a second more. I'll be right outside the door. You," he pointed his finger at Alistair, "keep her safe, or so help me I will tear your throat out with my bare hands."
Cullen didn't wait for a reply from either the King or Ashe and he marched out of Alistair's meeting room. He positioned himself outside the door, squeezing himself in between two of the guards. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wood, keeping his eyes open and vigilant. He would not let himself be distracted by the fact that Ashe was alone with the bastard, probably comforting him and telling him how sorry she was for his loss.
Cullen scoffed. That boy had never deserved Mahariel, and he acted as if he alone had the right to mourn her, to play the wounded party and wrest sympathy out of Ashe. He wouldn't be surprised if Alistair milked this for all it was worth. While Cullen didn't doubt that he was sad and horrified over Mahariel's death, it wasn't as though the two of them had been on good terms, not for a long time. Cullen might have teased her about Alistair and tried to make her admit that she still cared for him, but she'd truly convinced him that she didn't anymore when he'd seen her reaction to Ashe and Alistair's 'relationship' or whatever one would call it. She'd looked amused, and a little bored.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone at the other side of the door. He stepped back and watched as the door opened and Ashe slipped through.
"What?" she said. "Don't look so surprised. You said five minutes, and while I would normally have your hide for trying to order me around, right now I do not need you trying to kill Alistair. Besides, we have things to do. A killer to find. We're good at this sort of thing, Cullen."
He did indeed feel surprised that she'd obeyed him, and even more so over the fact that she didn't emerge teary-eyed from her meeting with Alistair, but with a twinkle in her eye when she spoke of what they had to do. Like a mission. This, he realized, was exactly what she needed.
He walked her back to her guest quarters, a whole retinue of guards following them all the way to her door.
Alistair's tightened security. A bit late, maybe.
"What's this?"
Ashe had stopped in front of her bed and she was looking at something on it. Cullen came up beside her. It looked like a piece of paper.
She picked up the note and Cullen saw confusion spread on her face while she scanned the page. "I know these words. It's an old poem that I liked when I was younger. I read it a lot actually."
Cullen snatched the piece of paper from her hand and quickly read the words. They didn't mean much to him. He looked back at her and she seemed to be contemplating something.
"Could it be, I wonder..." she said, her mind obviously elsewhere.
Cullen's eyes returned to the paper. "One day, I will find you. And I've finally know what I've been searching for. One day, you will see me. Like no other's looked upon this face before. Dreams, beneath the surface..." He stopped when he saw her expression change at the edge of his vision and his head snapped up to her.
"No, it can't be, it can't," she whispered. She fell to her knees and Cullen caught her arms, stopping her from falling to the floor completely.
"Ashe, for the love of the Maker, what's wrong?"
She shook her head in apparent disbelief. "I remember... the burning, in the Fade, before. Beneath the surface, the day is here, he found me..."
Her rambling worried him. "Love, do you remember what happened when you were unconscious, is that it? Dreams can be strange," he said, trying to calm her down, fearing a breakdown.
"He wouldn't do this to me. He liked me so much. He used to... Maker, he loved listening when I read this!" She pointed to the note that he'd dropped to the floor when he caught her. She sagged and Cullen sat down on the bed and pulled her onto his lap.
"Who, Ashe? Tell me, did he do this to you, to Mahariel? Ashe?"
But she wouldn't answer him, because her head fell back and Cullen felt like someone had plunged a knife into him when he saw that her eyes were not closed, but glazed over with a red tinge. But she was not there. She didn't seem to even be awake, despite her open eyes.
"Ashe, please don't do this to me. Wake up and tell me who you're speaking of, so that I can kill him for doing this to you."
Someone snorted from the direction of the window. "Oh, please. You could try."