Ashe

She knew what he was planning to do. She just knew.

The last few days with Alistair had been incredible. He was sweet, fun, commanding, fierce, and Maker – her face heated up just thinking about what an animal he was in bed. But most importantly - and of this she was absolutely sure - he adored her. She admired him a great deal, too. Actually, she did more than admire him. She caught herself smiling whenever she thought of him, and he definitely made her heart beat faster.

She had made the King of Ferelden fall in love with her, and he was perfect.

Or at least he would have been, had she not been the Inquisitor.

Ashe sighed as she stood by the window of her chambers in the palace, gazing out over the city through the dim light of dawn.

Strong protests of her continued presence in Denerim had already been voiced. Accusations of her favoring Ferelden, or worse – her favoring Ferelden only because of her relationship with Alistair. They weren't officially a couple, but people were not blind, or stupid, and they had not exactly hidden their trysts so far. They were scared of her, and scared of her power.

And she knew without a doubt that it was only a matter of weeks, maybe even days, before Alistair asked her to marry him. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in the way he spoke to her, notice it in the way he treated her, almost with reverence. Men like Alistair did no such thing for a woman they did not intend to marry, or in his case, make his queen.

Queen.

She had tasted the word on her tongue several times in the past few days, and she had to admit: She liked it.

But she knew that there was no way she could be Inquisitor and queen both. And without her, there would be no Inquisiton at all.

But what was left for her in Skyhold? The Breach was sealed, and although peace was fragile, there was still peace.

Cullen had left, and who knew where Hawke had gone after she stormed away from Skyhold after she had found out about Cullen and Mahariel? Her gut clenched with guilt at the thought of him. Once again she had thrown him away like he was nothing, when he'd been there for her all that time. All to go chasing after a man who'd married another woman. And when Alistair had started to really court her, she had made every excuse possible not to go back to Skyhold. She hadn't even dared send an inquiry to Leliana of what had become of Hawke. She did not want to go back because seeing him gone would make her guilt too overwhelming to cope with.

And every day, new demands of the Inquisition's dissolution poured in. She just did not know what to do.

She heard a faint rustle behind her and warmth washed over her as a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her from behind. She leaned into him and breathed in his familiar scent, pushing the other thoughts out of her head.

"Sweetest... you look troubled, I don't like it," Alistair said softly and kissed her neck. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"It's nothing, Alistair. I just have a lot on my mind." She turned around and faced him, still wrapped up in his arms.

"Let me distract you, then," he murmured against her lips before he kissed her.

She was nervous. Nervous and still at a loss for what to do. She had seen the servants bustling around outside Alistair's chambers all morning, busier than usual, before she had attended her daily business and she could swear that wherever she went, people were looking at her, pointing, whispering, even giggling.

That evening, she walked towards the King's quarters, more nervous than ever before. Was he going to do it tonight? Was this the day he was going to ask her to become his wife? The hallways were weirdly empty of servants and guards alike, so something was definitely up. At least Alistair's usual two guards were standing outside his door and nodded to her in greeting as she approached.

"Your Worship," one of them said.

"Is he in?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Worship. He is not alone, though."

Curious, she opened the door and slipped in, closing it behind her. She looked around but the living room was empty.

Didn't they say...

She heard a noise coming from inside his bedroom. She flinched as she heard something like glass breaking and she hurried forward and burst into the room.

She briefly registered that the space was filled with hundreds and hundreds of flowers, and candles were lit everywhere. But her attention soon became fixed on the scene before her and she stared in shock at what could only be described as a bloody fist fight. She didn't move until she was jolted out of her shock when what looked like a tooth went flying to the floor after Alistair landed a hit in the other man's face.

"What in Thedas do you two think you are doing?" she asked, putting her most stern, authoritative tone behind her words.

They both froze and shoved each other away. Hawke spat out some blood on the floor before he looked at her. He didn't seem the least bit ashamed, or surprised to see her. Alistair, on the other hand, looked horrified.

She quickly looked over them both to make sure they were not seriously injured. Hawke was bleeding out of his mouth and nose, but seemed alright. Alistair had a nasty cut above his eyebrow and a split lip, but that seemed to be it.

"So? Who is going to answer me?" she demanded.

Hawke spat out some more blood as if to ready himself to speak but Alistair cut him off.

"Don't you say a word to her, you bastard, I'm warning you," he said, almost growling at Hawke.

Ashe stared at him, surprised.

"I am not the bastard here, in any sense of the word," Hawke responded.

"Why do you not want Greyer to speak, Alistair?" Ashe asked slowly, feeling the creeping sensation of a betrayal coming. She had been through enough meetings and conversations with desperate people to know these sorts of things. She just did not know what kind it was yet.

"Ashe, I... This is not how I thought this evening would go," Alistair said and threw his arms out and glanced around the room.

"Yes, I understand that the flowers and candles are not the welcome committee for Greyer. I still have not been told what is going on, and I want an answer, now."

"He is here to ruin everything," Alistair said and pointed at Hawke, "here to spew lies and separate us, don't believe a word he says, I beg of you, Ashe."

Hawke snorted and wiped the blood from under his nose with the back of his hand. "Desperate words from a desperate man. I didn't even come here to see you, you prick, I came here to see Ashe." Hawke turned to face her. "I was told you would most likely be here tonight, by one of your servants here, Ashe. She insisted that I would be allowed into the private chambers, she said you would always welcome me, and she persuaded the guards of the same thing. So she lead me to Alistair's front door. Imagine my surprise when I see two barely clothed, young women, neither one of them you, slip out of here, all smiles and giggles. Of course, it might just have been a misunderstanding, so I went in here quietly to see for myself. The son of a whore had barely pulled his trousers up when I saw him, and I merely questioned his intentions for you when he took a swing at me."

Ashe looked at Alistair again. He did not have a shirt on. Why would he not be fully clothed, this time of night? And Greyer would not lie to her about something like this, she knew he would not.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You are so stupid, Ashe.

"Is it true, Ali?" Her voice was weaker than she would have liked.

"No, Maker's breath, it is not! It is all just a big misunderstanding!"

"Oh, is it?" Hawke cut in. "Was it also a misunderstanding how Cullen was informed of your and Ashe's engagement when he refused to be Amaranthine's steward?"

Ashe felt her insides go cold.

"Are you engaged to her, Your Majesty?" Hawke asked Alistair and pointed toward Ashe.

"I-I was going to ask her tonight..."

"So that is a no, then. Can you tell me why the former Commander was under that distinct impression when he married Lady Mahariel?"

The room feel silent. Ashe's mind was working fervently to piece everything together.

"Ashe, I..."

"Shut up, Alistair. Greyer, would you give us a minute, please? Go back to my guest quarters. I will join you shortly."

Hawke nodded, his eyes full of sympathy. He squeezed her shoulder briefly as he passed her before he disappeared out the door.

So Alistair had told Cullen that she was already spoken for. All to get her to himself. And Cullen, the fool, had taken the bait and swallowed it whole, without even asking her himself.

"Tell me this, Alistair. Who's idea was it, Cullen's marriage to Mahariel?"

"His own, I swear! You can ask him yourself, he can not deny that. Ashe, everything I did, I did for us, for you. I am truly sorry that I lied to you, but I love you, I love you, you hear me? I could not stand this any longer, stand you being near him, even thinking about him as an option. It hurt too much, I love you too much. Everything I did, I did because I do not want to live without you."

He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke, the shame from earlier gone as he stood tall and told her how he felt.

And she believed him. His words had a ring of truth to them, and all this - his crazy plan to get her to himself. She was almost impressed. She resented being lied to, but she believed him when he said it was because he could not stand having her with Cullen, because he loved her. She knew she had been cruel, to all of them. Alistair, Hawke, Cullen. It was never her intention, though. She cared for each and every one of them. But Alistair... He had only done what needed to be done.

But then she remembered what Greyer had said. She looked at Alistair again. Looked at his naked upper body, how the strings on his trousers were still untied. She remembered what she had always heard about him, from everyone, even straight out of Mahariel's own mouth – how he fucked half his court.

Ashe believed that he loved her. But he had loved Mahariel once too, and he had done the same to her. All the lies, the manipulation... It was impressive, the lengths he had gone to to make her his.

"It almost worked, Alistair. It almost did," she said, and suddenly she felt so very tired. She walked toward the outer door of his quarters, and Alistair did not even protest. She almost wished that he would have as she slipped out the royal quarters for what she was certain was the last time.

Not ten minutes later, she sat in front of the fire in her guest quarters. Hawke sat in a chair to her side, staring into the flames. She studied his face as he did so. He was quiet, and he looked like he had a lot on his mind.

That makes two of us.

After another few minutes, he spoke, still staring into the fire.

"I did not come here to cause any trouble, Ashe, believe me. I am here because I was in Amaranthine. I delivered Anders to Mahariel for further interrogation. Sadly, she didn't get anywhere because Cullen... Well, there is no other way to put this. Cullen killed him."

"What? Why?"

Hawke shook his head, looking annoyed. "Because the selfish idiot has no self control, and seemed to forget that Anders was not his to kill."

Ashe felt a flash of anger flare up inside her. "You are damned right he was not," she said through gritted teeth. "Oh, Greyer, what is going on here? Why is everyone acting crazy?" The anger died died down just as quickly as it had come. She looked at Hawke, who was looking back at her, eyes full of affection and pity.

"You know why, Ashe. It is because of you. No, no, I'm not saying it is your fault. But I warned you this might happen if you pitted them against each other."

Ashe sighed. "I didn't do it knowingly, Greyer. This was never my intention. Do you know... Do you know why Cullen married Mahariel? If she only asked her to be his steward, then why would they need to get married, for Maker's sake?" She hated that she had to ask him but Hawke just shrugged.

"I can not claim to know how that man is thinking, Ashe, but he did tell me that he was the one who asked her. He was not forced to do anything."

"He didn't even stop to ask me why I had said yes to Alistair without even telling him first. How could he have been so stupid? He said he loved me, Andraste, and he was married to another within the week. And now Alistair. Seems I am not enough for anyone," she snorted, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

In two seconds, Hawke was on his knees before her, his hands covering hers. "Don't you ever say that, my dear. They are not worthy. I don't care who they are, king, general, fucking stable boy, it doesn't matter. No one who treats you like this deserves your grief, or a second of your attention."

Ashe could not even meet his eyes. Eventually, even a tear pressed itself out of the corner of her eye.

Hawke wiped it away with a soft touch of his finger. "Princess, don't cry over them, they are not worth it."

"I'm not crying over them, Greyer. I'm just so ashamed. Because how they have treated me... It is just how I have treated you."

She looked up, afraid of what she would see in his face, afraid of him realizing that she was right. But the only thing she was met with was his warm smile, and his hand gently stroking her cheek.

She had been on the road for weeks, only herself and a few guards. She had needed time to think, away from anyone speaking of Cullen, Alistair or even Hawke. She stopped in every village, meeting people without them knowing who she was. No burdens, no responsibilities. It was the most refreshing experience she had had in years. But she knew she could not play commoner forever.

She let her fingertips run carefully over the labels of the dusty old bottles. She hadn't been down here in ages. She sighed as she looked them over. She missed the time when she was collecting these, missed the 'simpler' times, if simple meant building the Inquisition and warring against Corypheus. Apparently, her life was now so complicated that her mind thought anything else paled in comparison.

She sighed again and snagged the closest bottle off the shelf. She glanced down at it. Golden Scythe 4:90 Black. It would have to do. She hopped up on one of the barrels that stood against the wall. She pulled the cork out of the bottle with some difficulty. It finally gave in with an outdrawn squeak, almost as if it complained about being disturbed after so long. She took a swig straight out of the bottle and almost spat it back out, but swallowed it and coughed. Maker, it tasted foul as nothing else. She snickered to herself when she thought of how much money this would have been worth if she had left it untouched. She drank another mouthful as she thought about just how fucked up everything in this world was.

Sitting in a dark, cold liquor storage room, she felt more at home than she had in a long time. At least Skyhold would always be hers.

She looked up as she heard the door creak open. She heard his deep voice before she saw him.

"Ashe?"