Ashe

Leliana had kept her promise. Ashe hadn't seen Cullen around Skyhold for days, and it was a relief. She knew he was still there, or close by. But she didn't want to face him right now. She had no answers for him. Not that there was anything to answer – what was done was done, and he had offered no solutions to anything so far, and she couldn't think of there ever being one on the horizon.

She felt sick when she thought of his first suggestion of her leaving the Inquisition to come live with him in Amaranthine – sick and not a little angry. How he had even dared to make such an outlandish offer to her – if one could even call something so crude an actual offer – was beyond her. No matter what had led up to it, he was the one who had made the decision to marry Mahariel. That he even wanted for her to become his mistress, to degrade her so blatantly, wanting her to descend from Inquisitor to – to that… It only proved to her how selfish he was. He claimed to love her more than anything but his actions had done nothing to prove that.

Cullen hadn't fought for her. Not enough, anyway. But she hadn't fought enough for him, either. She had gone after him to Denerim when she heard that he was engaged, but she had taken the coward's way out as soon as she'd seen him, and she had run away instead of demanding an answer out of him. But it wouldn't even have mattered. It had already been too late.

Ashe sighed and rubbed her temples.

Mistress. What a fucking joke.

Cullen had, of course, following her reaction, taken it back, and said that he would just leave Mahariel, but Ashe wasn't even sure that she wanted him to anymore. She'd had a lot of time to think over the last few days, to think about more than herself for once. If Cullen left Amaranthine and all of his duties there – what would that even mean? He was a man of duty, a man of honor. Making him leave that behind wasn't fair, not when she wasn't even sure that the Inquisition would carry on. If there were no Inquisition to go back to, there would be no forces for Cullen to command.

And what of herself? What would she do if she was Inquisitor no more? She had plenty of options; more than Cullen had. She was highborn, she was the Herald of Andraste, she was close personal friends with the Divine herself. She could do almost anything. But how would Cullen fit into any of that? The estranged husband of the Hero of Ferelden, who had abandoned the people of his own arling, to become her… her what? Her lover?

It was not the future she wanted for herself, or for him. She didn't want to reduce him to that. She wanted him to thrive, to have a good and fulfilling life, despite all the things he had done, despite him breaking her heart – just like Alistair had.

She felt sick again when she thought of Alistair. That wound was still wide open. Every time she thought about him, images of that last night in the palace flashed before her – his desperate attempt to convince her that his half naked form and Hawke's testament weren't true.

It hurt so fucking much. She had given herself to him, been on the verge of disbanding the Inquisition so that she could be with him, she…

I was in love with him.

She wanted to cry, or hit something, anything, to drown out the truth of why what he had done to her still killed her inside.

Despite everything, she was still in love with Alistair. But that wasn't what hurt the most. The worst part was that she knew that she could never forgive him.

Hawke

Drinking the night away in the Gull and Lantern was something Hawke had been looking forward to. He would spend a generous amount of his coin – he had more than he could ever need anyway – and if it happened to attract a few ladies, he would hardly complain. Drinking himself into a stupor with a pretty girl on his lap seemed to be the only thing these days that distracted him from… everything.

After he had left Denerim, after Ashe had finally come to her senses and done the same, he should have gone back home. He had so many things that required his attention; countless people that pulled at him, demanding his presence.

But he didn't fucking feel like it.

So he hadn't traveled up north to cross the Waking Sea like his duty demanded, but gone west instead. He had berated himself all the way to Redcliffe for getting involved in this mess in the first place and by the time he arrived in the village, he had almost managed to convince himself that Redcliffe being located relatively close to Skyhold had nothing to do with why he was there. He really did like the now bustling village and the people there. And he needed a fucking break.

So when he sat at the bar late that night, the bard in the corner playing merry tunes while he chatted up three adorable, local girls while drinking all his worries away, the sound of stomping boots and clanking armor was a most unwelcome surprise.

He turned around and cursed under his breath when he took in the scene before him. Half a dozen guards wearing the royal crest of Ferelden had made a path through the crowd, letting the man who had entered behind them walk up to Hawke unhindered. Hawke eyed him up and down and snorted.

"All this pomp just for me, Your Majesty? You shouldn't have," he quipped and turned around, letting Alistair face his back while he took another swig of his drink.

A few moments later, the music that had stopped before started playing again and with a quick glance over his shoulder Hawke saw that Alistair dismissed his guards, who spread out through the tavern to stand watch.

Alistair slipped into the now vacant chair beside Hawke and motioned for the barkeep to bring him a drink.

"You just cost me a good hour's worth of chatting to those lovely ladies you just sent scurrying away at the sight of those guards," Hawke complained, but Alistair didn't look the least bit sorry, as expected.

"I'm sure you'll survive, Champion."

Hawke rolled his eyes at the use of his title, and felt his patience run low. "What is it that you want from me, then? The last time I saw you, you tried to break my nose, so this had better be good."

"That was uncalled for, I admit. Had I been in my right mind, I wouldn't have..."

"Oh, spare me," Hawke spat, turned toward the other man now, staring him directly in the eyes. "You enjoyed it. And you would have fucking killed me if that would have stopped me from spilling what I had just seen to Ashe, we both know it, so cut the shit and tell me what you want."

"Fine. But that is the very reason I am here. What you think you saw."

Hawke couldn't believe it. "What I think I saw? You mean what I walked right fucking into?"

Alistair ignored the outrage in Hawke's voice. "You didn't actually walk into anything," he said calmly. "Do you really think I would be that fucking stupid? That I would fuck those nobodies in my own chambers when I had invited Ashe to come there? When I had prepared everything for the proposal that was supposed to happen in that very room that night? I know you fucking hate my guts, Hawke, but honestly, even if I had wanted to do something so heartless, do you think so little of my intelligence that I wouldn't have covered it up better? It was just a stupid misunderstanding."

"You expect me to believe that you have never had those girls in your bed? Please." Hawke rolled his eyes. "They seemed more than familiar with their surroundings."

"I didn't say that," Alistair grumbled, "but I haven't so much as looked at them since I met Ashe."

Hawke snorted again and took another large gulp of his drink before he felt Alistair's hand grip his arm. Before he could shake it off, Alistair spoke again. "I love her. Why the fuck would I touch anyone else when I had her right before me all that time?"

"Take your filthy hand off me," Hawke snarled, and Alistair let him go. "How should I know what goes on in that demented head of yours? You had Mahariel too, all those years ago. She is one of the most beautiful women I've seen in my life, but that didn't stop you from fucking around on her, did it?"

Alistair's eyes went dark. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he growled.

"It doesn't even matter. I know what I saw. Those girls were barely clothed, and you hadn't even tied up you fucking breeches yet when I walked in. It speaks for itself."

"I threw them out! I can't help that they walked in when I was just about to change. I've brought them with me, here, so they can tell you in person that what you saw was just a misunderstanding."

Hawke raised his eyebrows. "You what?"

"You have to believe me, Hawke," Alistair pleaded, his features now smoothed out and free from the aggression that was there only seconds ago. "You know I love her, that I would do anything for her."

"That you would do anything to claim her, yes. That I can believe. You made her think that Cullen was out of the running. You manipulated her. I don't like it when you're fucking with her head, you got that?"

Alistair nodded. "Of course, and that was foul of me, but I couldn't stand her being around that man any longer, surely you can understand that? You hate Cullen as much as I do."

"That may be true, but you are hardly any better."

"That's where you're wrong, my friend. I am better for her, and you know it. I have never forced her to do anything she didn't want to do, nor would I ever do so. I love her. I adore her, I would do fucking anything to get her back. But I don't want to do anything but to tell the truth. I admit that I played a hand in pushing Cullen into Mahariel's arms, but that is the extent of my sins." Alistair gripped Hawke's arm again, desperately. "I swear to you that I am telling you the truth."

Hawke regarded the other man, scrutinizing his face as his proclamations of innocence spilled over his lips.

And he believed him. He believed that maybe, it had all been a misunderstanding. As much as he loathed the man, Alistair was far from stupid. And fucking those girls when he expected Ashe there any second would have been exceptionally dumb. So maybe, that one time, the king who was famed for bedding every girl in his court, had actually managed to keep it in his pants.

But just because you didn't do it this one time doesn't make up for all the other times you might have, or most certainly will betray her.

Hawke sighed and feigned a look of defeat on his face. "Fine, fine, I believe you, now will you please let go of me before you lead all the women in here to believe I swing the other way?"

Alistair complied immediately and smiled at him. "I knew you would see reason, friend. You are an honorable man. Will you consider traveling to Skyhold with me to help me explain all of this to Ashe? She'll listen to you, I know it."

Alistair held out his hand to him, and Hawke took it. "Alright. I'll help you," Hawke said, lying through his teeth as he shook the other man's hand.