Ashe

Hawke looked at her, his eyebrows raised in question. She just didn't know how to form the words. She didn't know all that much about his relationship with Anders, but she was sure he wouldn't exactly be pleased to hear that Anders - the very same that had instigated the war between mages and templars – was their one and only suspect of Mahariel's murder and the attacks on Ashe herself.

"So, who is it? Maker's breath, Ashe, you're killing me here, who could it possibly be to garner that look on your face?" Hawke asked, his expression growing more and more somber by the second.

"It's... It's someone I thought I knew. But it turns out I didn't." She looked down at her feet, unsure of how to proceed.

"Are you sure I know him, then? I mean, you and I haven't known each other for that long, we don't exactly have many people in common that we kn..."

"It's Anders," she blurted out.

No point in dragging this out any longer.

When Hawke didn't say anything, she looked up. He seemed... well, stunned would be an understatement.

His jaw hung open in surprise, and she looked at him with worry as she saw how the gears turned in his head, his emotions much more evident on his face than ususal now that he'd been caught off guard.

"Greyer? Say something, please."

"I... How in the dark depths of the Fade do you know Anders?" He looked incredulous as he spoke the name.

"He's been living with my family for years. He must have come to us after... you know what. He told me that he was a noble, on the run from an unwanted marriage alliance. We became close."

Ashe didn't think it could be possible for Hawke to look more surprised than before, but she was wrong.

"Living? With you?"

"He lied to us, to me. I'm ashamed to say that I believed him, but I was young and naive, and why shouldn't I have trusted him? He was just a servant then, or at least I thought he was."

Hawke stood up and began pacing back and forth before her on the balcony.

"But I don't understand. He vanished without a trace. One of the most sought out men in Thedas at the time, and you're saying that he's been living in the Trevelyan estate, right under our noses in Ostwick, all this time?" He looked at her and had his hands splayed out in front of him in wonder.

"I... I guess so. Greyer, please sit, you're making me nervous. Don't do anything stupid, please."

Something seemed to dawn on him when she spoke and he knelt in front of her and took her hand in his.

"Please, forgive me, princess." He touched her hand against his forehead while he stared at the floor.

What?

"Forgive you for what, Greyer?" she asked, unsure of herself. Should she have understood what he meant?

He looked up at her and his eyes shone with guilt but also a carefully concealed rage, although she knew it was not directed at her.

"For not putting a knife in that bastard's guts when I should have. I saw him after what he'd done in Kirkwall, and I cut him loose. Told him to get out and if I ever saw him again, I'd kill him. Damn it all to the Fade, why didn't I just kill the miserable son-of-a-whore when I had the chance? If I had, he wouldn't have attacked Mahariel, or you. Maker, if he'd managed to hurt you, I would never have been able to live with myself."

Ashe tugged gently at his hand and pulled him up to sit in his chair again.

"That's nonsense, Greyer, and you know it. He was your friend, before, right? You can't kill a friend just like that, even if they've betrayed you. And in any case, there's no way you could have known what would happen years after."

"Yes, but I might have guessed that it would be a bad, fucking idea to let that crazy murderer escape! Maker damned abomination is what he is. He destroyed the lives of so many people, his own people, too. You know how mages have suffered for what he's done. And now this, you... My sweet princess," he said and took her hand again and kissed it.

What's the matter with him?

Her and Hawke had always been drawn to each other, like some weird mix between lovers and siblings, the best of both worlds without actually being in love. Why was he so emotional now? Maybe the stress over this Anders-situation really got to him.

"Hey, come on, Greyer. We can't even be sure that he's really the one responsible. He swears that he's not, that he's only trying to help me find whoever did it."

"And you believe him?" Hawke looked skeptical, to say the least.

Ashe sighed. "I don't know what to believe. It's so strange, why would he attack me? Why in the world would he suddenly come here and kill Mahariel? From what I've heard, they were friends once, no? And attack me? It makes no sense. I've done nothing to him, and he still claims that he loves me."

Hawke's eyebrows shot up at that. "Oh? You mean, like..." He trailed off, seemingly unsure of how to form his question.

"I mean, like a brother. At least I think so. But he didn't exactly seem sincere the last time I asked him."

"Probably because he's in love with you."

Ashe sighed in defeat again. "So people keeps telling me."

"Has there been any more attacks since he was imprisoned? Have you been well?"

Ashe nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't mean..."

Hawke flashed his teeth and made a noise that was something between a snarl and a growl. "I'll fucking kill him."

He moved to stand up but before he had time, the door to the room that was connected to the balcony opened. It was the guard again.

"I'm begging your pardon, Lady Inquisitor, but your Commander is here to see you. He's, uhm... quite insistent."

Oh, for fuck's sake...

"Absolutely not. Did you not hear me the first time? I am not to be interrupted." She wanted to shout at the guard and threaten him with telling Alistair how they let Cullen pester her, but that would be childish, and it would do no good for the Inquisiton's reputation for people to know she wasn't currently speaking to her own commander.

The guard nodded, looking down at his feet and bowing while he backed out. Ashe rose and pulled the balcony door almost shut behind the guard, obscuring the view of the room from her vision. She didn't even want to think about Cullen waiting for her out there.

"What was that about, then?" Hawke asked, and Ashe wondered whether she should tell him or not. Anything that distracted him from Anders would be worth it, she supposed.

"Cullen, he, ah... We had a bit of a falling out earlier, to put it mildly. He said... some not so, uhm, kind things to me before."

Hawke watched her intently, his eyes narrowed. "I warned you to be careful, princess, that it could end badly for you to play them out against each other."

"I fucking haven't!" she exclaimed, offended that he blamed her before even hearing her side. "And no matter what I've done, it gives him no right to back me up against a wall, spit at my feet and call me a whore!"

She felt so fucking angry when she thought of what Cullen had said, it took her a few seconds to register how white Hawke's face had become, or how he clenched his fists at his side.

"He did fucking what?" His voice was low in his throat.

Shit shit shit.

"Greyer, you..." she started but he interrupted her immediately.

"I'll kill him, and when I'm done, I'm going to see my old 'friend'", he spat the word, "and I'm going to fucking kill him too, long overdue." He rose from his chair so violently that it flew backwards, crashing into the balcony door just as it opened, while Ashe jumped to her feet and held out her hand in a stopping motion. But she didn't have time to speak before she noticed Alistair standing behind Hawke in the entrance, looking equally as enraged as Hawke.

"Is it true, Ashe? Did that miserable fuck spit at you, did he call you that?" Alistair asked, his tone, again, matching Hawke's low and frighteningly calm one.

Hawke turned around, as surprised as Ashe was to see the King behind them.

Then Ashe saw yet another person behind Alistair.

It was Cullen. And she was not the only one staring at him.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

The only question now was who would throw the first punch. And fucking Maker, how would she keep them all from killing each other?