Alistair

They all scurried out of his way like rats as he walked along the palace corridor. They used to greet him cheerily, servants and others alike, but now no one dared to even look at him, much less speak to him. He slammed the door to his private chambers shut, wishing it would have come off its hinges just to have the satisfaction of breaking something.

His mood had been as stable as a raging cloud of thunder over the past few weeks, but Alistair couldn't care less. Nothing mattered anymore.

The only one who was pleased was Eamon, since Alistair brought his unpredictable mood with him into every meeting and negotiation, and anyone who tried to cross him or argue with him got a taste of the King's furious temper. Alistair knew that Eamon had always found him too distracted or soft in these sorts of things, so he guessed this was a welcome change.

But even Eamon began to worry after a while, when there seemed to be no end in sight regarding Alistair's foul mood. The old man could go to the darkest depths of the fade for all he cared. Everything was ruined anyway.

The only thing that brought him any joy was to imagine how to break Greyer Hawke's neck. The mage had wisely left Denerim at the same time as Ashe, and Alistair begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was for the best. The last thing he needed right now was to start a war only because he wouldn't be able to stop himself from murdering the Champion of fucking Kirkwall, had he stood before him. Just thinking about the man and what he had done to him, to his relationship with Ashe, made him go nearly insane with rage. If that fucking lowlife hadn't barged into his quarters at that exact moment on the night he was to propose to Ashe, he wouldn't even have seen those two girls that Alistair had sent packing only moments before, and so conveniently chosen to misinterpret the whole situation and, of course, scream bloody murder about it to Ashe as soon as she got there.

He knew that Hawke would have told Ashe of Cullen believing her to be already engaged anyway, but had the scene not looked so bad, if she only hadn't believed that he had fucked those stupid, little girls, he would have had more time to explain himself, having to deal only with one betrayal and not two. He was sure that he could have made her understand. She hadn't even seemed angry, just heart broken and so immensely sad.

Alistair's gut clenched when he thought about how her beautiful face had looked when she had asked him if it was all true. He would never forget how she flinched when her eyes wandered down to the mess of untied strings and up again over his naked torso. He could see Hawke's words hit her again as she put two and two together, reaching the false conclusion that he had betrayed her with those whores. The pain of that memory was more than he could bear.

The girls, Lydia and Corinne, he had ordered not to be allowed anywhere near him. He didn't trust himself not to strangle the life out of them both if he saw them again. He tried as hard as he could to put them both out of his mind, and he succeeded well enough.

Until he got the raven from Leliana.

Dear Alistair,

I thought you would like to know that the Inquisitor is safely back here in Skyhold, since I very much doubt she has sent word to you herself. Oh yes, my dear old friend, she has told me everything about what went down between the two of you.

Clever little trick you pulled with Cullen, getting him out of your way so effectively. Although I am not entirely pleased with you for stripping us of our Commander, I cannot claim that I am not also a little impressed with your plan. Maker knows we could have used more of that brilliant mind of yours during the Blight. Perhaps if your head hadn't been so completely occupied pining over Mahariel….

But I digress. What matters now is acting in everyone's best interest. Well, perhaps everyone's except Cullen's. But sacrifices must always be made, and this little nudge I am about to give you well stand to benefit most of us.

My only request is that when all of this is over, you will remember who helped you when you needed it the most.

All hope is not lost for you, friend. Ashe is not yet lost to you. She is a smart woman, and she has practically already come around to understand your motives for what you did to Cullen, and accepted them. What she has not, and to be frank with you, WILL not come to terms with, is this nonsense about you sleeping around on her. On the eve of your intended proposal as well?

Tsk, tsk, Alistair, really.

Although, I doubt that it's even true, am I correct? Even you wouldn't be that foolish. Let us be honest here: I have seen Ashe with more or less clothes on, and why would you ever want anyone else in your bed if you had her willing at your disposal?

There must be some way you can clear up this little misunderstanding. I hear that Hawke was present when it all went down. Perhaps he can be of use, if you can persuade him that what he saw wasn't what he thought. Then again, maybe he already knows and doesn't care. Maybe it's all working out in his favor as it is now.

Whatever you decide to do, do it quickly. Cullen is already here.

I wish you all the best,

Leliana

Alistair couldn't believe his eyes as he finished reading the letter in his hand. A thousand things rushed through his mind at once, and he had to sit down and swallow a large gulp of wine from the goblet on the table beside him.

He could feel his heart beating rapidly, both with hope and alarming distress. He was beyond grateful that Leliana had decided to give him this information. If the spymaster herself told him that Ashe had forgiven him for his treachery, he believed her. The only thing really stopping him now was the stupid, fucking misunderstanding with Lydia and Corinne. He was pissed that Cullen had already gone to Skyhold, he had hoped that his duties in Amaranthine would keep the man in his place. But he couldn't exactly say that he was surprised. He would have done the same in his shoes.

Leliana hadn't mentioned in her letter what Ashe made of Cullen's presence in Skyhold, but he had a feeling that it hadn't exactly been a sweet, lover's reunion. If it had been, he doubted Leliana would even have written to him. And whatever Cullen told Ashe now, he couldn't escape the fact that he was a married man.

That fucking idiot.

Cullen's unexpected proposal to Mahariel had been a most welcome surprise to Alistair, one which he didn't waste any time spinning to his own advantage. If that stupid boar of a man hadn't gone through with it and just accepted Mahariel's first offer to be steward, he could have just resigned when he found out that Ashe was in fact not engaged.

But a fucking idiot was all that man would ever be, and Alistair thanked the Maker for it now.

He downed the rest of the wine, the wheels in his head turning quickly. If Leliana told him to hurry, he would. He stripped out of his impractical clothes and pulled his armor off the stand in the corner while he barked orders to his guards through the door, commanding them to find those wretched whores that had nearly ruined everything, and bring them before him.

He would bring them with him, and he would make them tell Ashe the truth of what had happened. With any luck, he would find Hawke too, and persuade him as well. Alistair knew that his chances of convincing Ashe would increase tenfold if the truth came right from the horse's mouth.

He just had to keep himself from breaking the horse's neck, first.