Cullen
All the emotions he'd tried to suppress on his way here flared up in him as soon as he laid his eyes on Hawke, a nasty cocktail of jealousy, anger and possessiveness. That Alistair would be here, he expected. Alistair he could handle. But now Hawke, too? Hawke – who, like Alistair, was staring daggers at him at that very moment. Was he throwing himself into this game now too? Game wasn't even the right word for it anymore.
This was more like a war, and the consequences could be just as deadly as on the battlefield. For Cullen had no doubt in his mind that the men staring at him hated him just as much as he detested them. Maker take him, he would kill them all if it meant he could have her to himself. He knew Alistair would do the same. Anders too, definitely, that man was even crazy enough to have tried to kill Ashe as well, probably so that no one else could have her.
Hawke, though, Cullen wasn't even sure what he was doing here. And that pissed him off considerably. He remembered how ashamed he'd felt after his verbal attack on Ashe when she'd told him that she'd never slept with either Anders nor Alistair. He'd been so sure that she had.
But what about Hawke?
He knew the stakes when he started this game, even told Ashe that he wanted to play. But he expected it to be a competition between himself and Alistair, not every Maker damned man she'd ever acquainted herself with.
So because he needed to know, he was the first one to break the silence that was filled with so much tension that you could stick your tongue out and taste it.
"Ashe, I came to tell you how sorry I am about what I said, that I crossed the line. But first you tell me this one thing – since you volunteered the information about Alistair and Anders so quickly. Did you fuck him?" he asked and pointed in Hawke's direction, not even looking at the man but keeping his eyes fixed on Ashe, who looked stunned.
The air crackled and Cullen felt something hot flash against the skin of his cheek. Blood trickled down his face and dripped onto the carpet, and he saw Hawke's outstretched hands coming down from the spell he'd worked.
"Don't you say another disrespectful word to her, you crude bastard. As a matter of fact, why don't you just remove yourself from her sight before I hurl another lightning bolt into your fucking face, and not a baby one this time," Hawke said through gritted teeth, evidently fighting to keep his temper under control while the adrenaline from the magic spiked through him.
"Actually, I'd be interested in hearing the answer to that question as well." Alistair had turned his stare from Cullen to Hawke, whom he now regarded with an icy expression.
"Ashe, you don't have to..." Hawke began but Ashe silenced him with a wave of her hand.
"It's alright, Greyer. I'll answer the question" She looked at Cullen and Alistair, who were – ironically – standing side by side. "It really is none of your business. But yes, Hawke and I have shared a bed from time to time." Her voice was steady and her head held high.
All Cullen wanted to do was to vomit, or punch Hawke, or shake Ashe until she told him why she did this to him. Why did he feel this way about her, when all she did was dancing around him, luring him in, making him think that she was finally his, just to rip out his heart and stomp on it? Why did she have to be the most extraordinary warrior, the most beautiful, the funniest, sexiest, intriguing, most intelligent bad girl in all of Thedas? And why the fuck hadn't he noticed it before it was too late and everyone else saw it too? If he'd just taken her while she was younger, she'd probably be his adoring, little wife by now – dedicated to pleasing him, and him to her, he was sure of it.
He didn't know who he was more angry with, himself or Ashe. Until he looked at Hawke again. Yes, in that moment, definitely Hawke.
All his rage went into the closed fist that struck Hawke's face with a resounding crack and the mage staggered backwards.
"Cullen, stop it!" Ashe shouted, but before she had time to move and just as Hawke had regained his balance, Alistair followed suit and landed a punch of his own in the mage's face, sending Hawke flying back against the wall. Ashe shrieked in shock and Cullen lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Then the King turned to look at Cullen.
"That was for him sleeping with her. Imagine what I want to do to you, who took advantage of her right after she'd been attacked, and then called her a whore," he snarled and then he moved so fast that Cullen didn't have time to react before he was struck by the other man's fist right where the lightning bolt had hit him. He roared in pain as he felt more of his flesh break and his mouth fill up with blood.
"Alistair, please!" Ashe sobbed, standing in the middle of the room, frantic and holding her hands out in desperation as if willing them all to stop.
Alistair turned to her. "You don't get to speak right now, you've said enough. Just because I don't debase myself by calling you nasty names doesn't mean I don't have any feelings about what you've just said. I respect you and your freedom, Ashe, you know that. Unlike this fucking idiot here," he said and pointed at Cullen, who was still clutching his cheek and trying to concentrate on anything other than the pain. "But you know how I feel about you, and how he feels about you," he said, still pointing at Cullen. "Was it really necessary to fuck Hawke as well? Just... don't say another word, you'll only make it worse. I can't deal with this right now."
Tears welled up in Ashe's eyes when she looked at Alistair, who's face was full of disappointment. Even Cullen could tell how badly this had affected his rival. No doubt he was still reeling from the loss of Mahariel and had put all his faith in Ashe, who was breaking his heart as much as Cullen's.
Good. He deserves it for not protecting Mahariel in his own house.
And for keeping Ashe from him, he could burn in the Fade for all Cullen cared.
Ashe looked helpless as Alistair exited the room, leaving her with Hawke and Cullen. Hawke had recovered from the blows he'd taken, but Cullen felt a little worse for wear.
"Maker's breath," she murmured when he turned his head towards her. He saw how she caught sight of the damage on his face. It felt like a fleshy mess underneath the hand he pressed against it, and his mouth was dripping with far too much blood.
Hawke looked murderous as he walked up to Cullen. "You and His Majesty," he spat, "are both selfish bastards. Acting so high and mighty, like you own her already. Like she isn't a grown woman, free to do whatever the fuck she wants. Why do you think she spends time with me? Because I don't fucking judge her. That's all the pair of you are good for. You damn hypocrites. Like I haven't heard of your little excursion to Emprise du Lion, where a high ranking Inquisition member fucked every red headed girl in the village not even weeks ago. That was you, wasn't it? And the King of Ferelden, who so famously have a whole unofficial harem of girls in his palace. They say he fucks a new one every night. And you have the gall to go off on Ashe for sleeping with one man, one she knows and trusts, unlike the pair of you who fucks every stranger who flashes her tits at you?"
Cullen felt his face burning from more than his wound. He didn't want Ashe to hear about Emprise du Lion, how in the Fade had that gotten around so fast?
"And how can you even be thinking about this right now?" Hawke continued. "When Mahariel is dead and Ashe nearly returned to the Maker as well? And you have the bastard responsible in custody. I'm not wasting any more time on this, I'm going to see Anders and figure out what the hell is going on."
Cullen was too busy holding pressure against his wound to answer, and Ashe looked too shocked to say anything at all, so Hawke left unhindered.
The silence in the room was only broken by the unpleasant sounds of Cullen's torn flesh squishing under his fingertips. Ashe stared at the floor.
He didn't know what to say, but he needed to get his cheek sorted sooner rather than later. He turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Ashe whispered. Cullen stopped when he heard how weak and tired she sounded.
"I need to get this fixed. Or I can take myself out of this crazy quest for your heart, because you won't want someone who looks like one of Cassandra's training dummies after she's unleashed her wrath on them after Varric has said something infuriating."
Ashe let out a loud laugh and then covered her mouth as if shocked by herself.
Was she still mad at him? Was he mad at her? Cullen didn't even know, and couldn't think of anything else to say. He opened the door and walked out, his mind an unpleasant mix of pain, joy from making Ashe laugh and images in his head of Hawke fucking the girl he loved.
Hawke
He was still furious, slamming each step hard into the ground as he made his way to Fort Drakon. Those selfish pricks, those sad excuses for men. What did Ashe even see in them? It wasn't his business, but she meant more to him than... well. She was like a sister to him.
Ahh, that's disgusting, man.
You weren't supposed to fuck your sister. She wasn't like a sister. At all. She was just a friend. An incredibly attractive friend. A friend he couldn't keep his hands off. But he wasn't in love with her. She was just a sisterly, no – friendly...
Screw it.
He shouldn't have reacted so badly to hearing what Cullen had said, Ashe wasn't innocent either. But he didn't care about Cullen. He only cared about her.
But I have nothing to offer her.
What? Why was he even thinking such things? He didn't owe her anything, they were just friends. And now, he was on his way to see another old friend. But this one, he didn't want to fuck. Him, he just wanted to kill.
Alistair
He was so tired. Not just his body, but his mind was exhausted. He'd decided not an hour ago that Ashe was worth fighting for, worth every bit of trouble. But then he'd heard about Hawke and it was like all the air had just left him. He knew it shouldn't affect him, he knew that out of all of them, Alistair himself was the one who'd known Ashe the shortest. But he was the one who loved her the most. He was certain of it. No one else knew her burden like he did, the pressure of the immense expectations the leadership forced on them. And he knew he could make her happy, and she him.
Maker, he needed someone who understood him. He needed her. She was the only one, his only option of ever getting what he truly wanted. So he would need to swallow his pride and his hurt and get over it, fast, before Cullen swept in again.
As soon as he'd dealt with Anders, he would double his effort. She would be his queen, or he would die trying. But preferably, Cullen would be the one who ended up dead.
Cullen
"Fuck!"
It hurt like a son-of-a-whore when the healer worked her spell on his wounded cheek. He sat on a cot in the infirmary and sulked as she pieced him back together, thinking of what had transpired in the last few, completely insane days.
He would have to let this Hawke-thing go. It was time to seriously step up his game, and return to what had worked so well in the beginning of his courtship, or whatever the fuck one would call it. Him seducing her. No matter how worldly Ashe was, she was still only nineteen years old. And girls that age bought any flattery you threw at them. He would show her how much he wanted her. Oh, he'd show her.