Ashe

It took them over a week to reach Skyhold. Anders had been kept heavily drugged the whole way. Hawke hadn't even needed to use his magic on the other mage, Mahariel's herbs and potions were enough. Ashe made a mental note of keeping in mind that it would be dangerous to cross that woman. Ashe may be the stronger one physically, she was sure she could run the elven woman through without much effort if she had to, but she would have to catch her first. They'd run into some bandits a few days away from Skyhold, and Ashe had barely seen Mahariel during the fight, she'd moved so fast around their enemies, cutting them with poisoned blades and throwing powders in their faces that made them scream and tear at their own flesh.

All very gruesome, really. It left Ashe both impressed and wondering who would win a fight between the two of them. It would be grand, a spectacle she was sure. The Inquisitor and the Hero of Ferelden. But still, she hoped they would never find out.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief when she finally had her home in sight, and riding through the gates made her feel like she never wanted to leave again.

Maker, but she was exhausted. Not only physically, but from keeping her anger in check. How was she supposed to have the patience to find out what was going on with Anders when all she wanted to do was to put her hands around his neck and watch the life go out in his eyes while she squeezed?

Leliana met them in the courtyard and quickly swept them into to keep, eager to keep them away from curious eyes. She had greeted Mahariel as a friend, but Ashe could sense there were underlying tensions between the bard and her old companion. Mahariel was impossible to read though, as usual. Ashe would ask Leliana about it later, if she had the energy.

After briefing her spymaster and making sure that Anders was locked up in the dungeon, guarded around the clock by several competent mages, she finally stumbled into her room, thanking the Maker that her bed was made and ready for her to fall into. She left it to others to show Alistair and Hawke hospitality.

When she woke up, it was pitch black outside. The clouds hid the moonlight and only the faintly glowing embers from her fireplace shed some light in the room. Her head felt heavy and her body ached but it was just the aftermath of the long journey. Hawke had, thankfully, healed her completely after what had happened with Anders. She tried not to get herself worked up about it but she couldn't stop herself from digging her nails into her palms when she thought about how he had forced her, how she had begged. She didn't know what made her angrier – the violation in itself or how he had reduced her to something she had vowed to never become: weak. She knew it wasn't her fault. He'd injured her and she'd suffered heavily from the loss of blood before he took her, so that she couldn't fight back. She always fought back, and he'd taken that from her too.

He's going to pay in blood.

She vowed this to herself, no matter his reasons, no matter if he'd been messed up in the head at the time, which she didn't even believe, that he would suffer for all of it. For raping her, but most of all for making her weak. She would show him what it was like when she wasn't. Hurting him, even killing him wasn't going to be enough.

But that would have to wait until Leliana had gotten everything out of him, whatever that was. She'd let Mahariel and Leli decide, she didn't much care.

Right now, all she wanted was to feel someone who actually loved her close. Someone who didn't just claim to love her and then hurt her. She wanted to feel something other than this consuming anger. And the only remedy for that would be to feel filled with desire instead, that was the only thing she knew how to do better than to fight and kill.

She got out of bed and lit the candle at her bedside before going to her closet. She chose a pair of leather pants, knee-high boots and a deep blue jacket which she buttoned up just to the top of her breasts, leaving the rest of her skin exposed. She took a quick look in the mirror and nodded to herself, confirming that she looked alright. Her crimson hair was a bit messy, but it fit the look she was going for.

She didn't even make it down the stairs before she heard a knock on her door. She jumped down the last few steps, newfound excitement spurring her on, before opening the door.

She smiled when she saw Alistair standing outside but her smile faltered when she saw that he was wearing full armor and a cloak around his shoulders.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

Alistair looked regretful. "I'm afraid so. I would like nothing more than to stay here with you, but I need to get back to Denerim, to deal with the consequences of all this. Mahariel is alive, when we've just had her funeral, the nation is mourning still. It will be a great shock to all and I have to be there to explain and calm the situation. Plus, I imagine my hasty departure has caused somewhat of an outrage. I'm sorry, truly Ashe, but I'm sure you understand I have no choice."

"The burden of being king. You can't put your personal life first, I know Alistair," she said and raised her hand to caress his cheek, her eyes warm and full of sympathy. Judging the way his jaw clenched when he spoke of his duty, she imagined he was none too happy about leaving her.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "You have no idea how much I just want to say fuck it all, Ashe. To leave you now, after what happened to you... I hate myself for it."

"Don't, please. I'll be alright."

He looked up and grabbed hold of her hand. "I know you can look after yourself, it's not that. I just want to be here for you, in any way that you might need me."

He looked so sincere it made her heart flutter. "Just hearing that is more than enough. Just write to me, promise?"

He nodded.

"And we'll see each other soon," she continued. "Is... Is Mahariel going with you?"

"Yes. We have to show people that she's alive before rumors starts flying around. I doubt she's happy about it, but it's the way it's got to be."

"Why would she be unhappy about it?"

"You know she and I don't exactly get along so well these days. Plus, I said some pretty terrible things to her when I first saw her when we found you. I sounded like... like I would rather she'd have stayed dead."

Ashe remembered vaguely, how he'd shouted at her and mistrusted her. She also remembered Mahariel not blaming him for it.

"I'm sure she's not angry about that anymore, Alistair. It'll all work out, I'm sure."

She just hoped it didn't work out too well. The elven woman was so beautiful, and she and Alistair had a long history together. Ashe wasn't stupid. She knew what always inevitably happened in those sorts of situations. She was surprised it hadn't happened already, that he wasn't with Mahariel right now. It really meant a lot to her that he was still interested.

"We have to leave now but I'm sure Mahariel will be back soon, as soon as we've shown everyone that she's alive. She has personal interest in all this now. I'll come as soon as my duties allow me. I already long for the day I can finally see you again."

Alistair opened his arms and Ashe molded herself against him and rested her head against his shoulder while he put his arms around her.

"Thank you for coming for me," she whispered and he hummed against her in response.

When he finally let go, he didn't do so without tilting her head up with his fingertips and placing a soft, warm kiss on her lips. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and then he turned around and left without saying another word.

Cullen

It was dark and a bit drafty in his office but he didn't mind. The chill kept him awake as he sat at his desk, wading through the mountain of papers and reports scattered all over it.

He'd been away for too long, and going through these was a distraction he sorely needed to keep him from what he really wanted, which was to go down into the dungeon and do what he should have done as soon as that deviant had shown up in Ashe's quarters in Denerim: kill him. Maybe cut off his filthy hands first. It would be a fitting punishment for touching Ashe against her will.

He tried to stop thinking about it, but the second he did, tremendous guilt swept over him. He should never have called the guards when Anders appeared. He should have just killed him. Fuck, he should have killed the son of a bitch back in Kirkwall.

He put his head in his hands, weighed down by the crushing sense of regret. He didn't know how long he sat like that before he heard a soft knock on the door.

His eyes widened when Ashe slipped through and closed the door behind her and he stood up so fast that he knocked his chair over.

She put her hand over her mouth to hide a small laughter. She looked...

"Ashe," he breathed. "You have no idea how good it is to see you so... so..."

"Like what?" she said and smiled.

"So healthy and lovely."

"Sweet, sweet man," she said. Maker, when she smiled at him like that, it reminded him a thousand times over why he would walk through fire for her. "But Andraste it's cold in here!" she exclaimed and rubbed her arms with her hands.

He immediately closed the window behind him. When he turned around to face her again, she was standing right in front of him.

"Cullen. I... thank you. For coming to get me. I don't know if I would've gotten out on my own. I'm so sorry I brought this mess on us all."

"Are you out of your mind? What are you apologizing for? If anyone should say they're sorry, it's me. I should have killed that bastard the moment he appeared in your quarters, I..."

He was shocked when she silenced him with a kiss. She ended it all too soon but kept a steady grip on his arms. "No one is to blame for what happened but Anders, do you understand me? With your logic, I might just as well blame myself."

"Absolutely not," he said with a tight jaw. Maker's breath, she would not be allowed to blame herself. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm so angry for letting it happen to you."

"Please, stop it, Cullen. There was nothing you could have done, except what you did and that was to rescue me. I won't hear any more of it, in fact, if you speak about it, I'm going to have to make you shut up."

He was a bad, bad man, but he couldn't help the tingling feeling of excitement creeping up on him as she spoke. Her smile had turned wicked, after all.

"And if I speak of something very boring, like my reports, or the weather, will you make me shut up then, too?" he asked, his voice low and rumbling while he pulled her closer to him.

"Try me."

He reached behind her and picked up a piece of paper from the desk. "I have a letter here from an outraged Lord Dufilange from Val Ro..."

She snatched the letter from him and scrounged it up before she threw it over her shoulder. "Screw the Orlesians," she said, her eyes full of mischief. "Or better yet, screw me."