Cullen

Cullen wanted to hide his face in his hands when he thought about how pathetic he had acted the night before. When Mahariel had turned to look at him from her place in the tub, he had swallowed hard – visibly, he was sure – and blurted out an apology for disturbing her. She had looked at him without answering for a few breaths, before she raised her eyebrow and a small smile crept onto her lips, and he realized he hadn't removed himself from the intrusion, instead he stood there gawking at her like some chantry boy. He had turned on his heel then, and marched back into the bedroom without another word.

He hadn't seen her since, having fallen asleep quite quickly afterwards – despite his embarrassment. When he had woken up that morning, she was nowhere in sight, but she'd left a note on the table saying she had business with the king but that she would be back in the afternoon, giving them a chance to talk some more.

Cullen ventured out into the streets of Orzammar while waiting for her, in dire need to clear his head. Images of her flashed through his head; not just her naked form from the night before, but images from all the time he had known her. As he passed a stall with two dwarf merchants yelling at each other, he remembered when he had encountered Mahariel again for the first time since the Blight ended.

It had been a cold, dark night in Kirkwall, and he had stupidly decided to patrol by himself, since he couldn't sleep anyway. He'd only had time to curse himself for that stupidity when he was beset by blood mages who had screamed in triumph that they had finally caught the accursed knight-captain alone. Cullen had drawn his sword even though he knew he was outnumbered, and he screwed his eyes shut as he felt something slash him across the face, and he prepared for the next – and final – blow. But it never came. His eyes flew open again as he heard the men surrounding him scream in horror, and he steadied his grip on his sword, ignoring the blood trickling down from his wound into his eyes. Something that was moving too fast for him to see clearly was whirling between the mages, and before he could even assess the situation properly enough to make a single move, they all lay dead on the ground. He tensed as the shape he couldn't see before stopped moving and stood right in front of him. His jaw all but dropped when he saw a small woman in a deep green cloak push her hood back, her golden hair specked with crimson blood. Despite meeting her very briefly years before, he would recognize her anywhere.

"Lady Mahariel?"

"Hello again. Cullen, was it?"

He nodded. "Forgive me for asking, my lady, but what is the Hero of Ferelden doing in this Maker forsaken corner of the world?"

She had laughed and told him that it was a long story, before taking a hold of his arm and all but escorted him to the nearest tavern, and he had gladly let her. She had saved his life, and that was the beginning of a long friendship.

Cullen thought more closely on this as he walked through the more polished streets of the Diamond quarter, still waiting for the hours to go by so that Mahariel would return. He thought of all the times they had met since that time in Kirkwall, about how he was glad that he'd had a chance to return the favor once not long after, and save Mahariel's life as well, right before arriving in Haven. He supposed that she wasn't just a friend; she had been his most loyal friend, too. That is why she had come when he had asked her to come with him to Alistair's birthday at the palace.

It all seemed distant now, and he realized how childish it must have seemed of him. Mahariel was sharp as a blade and she had known, of course, that he brought her there to make Ashe jealous, but she had come anyway; not even offended, only amused.

He didn't deserve her.

Hours later, when Mahariel returned from her business, he was waiting for her in their quarters. She smiled at him and sat down in the chair beside him in front of the fire. She seemed tired, and he didn't prod at what she had been doing all day.

She sat quiet for a few moments before she turned to him and spoke.

"I need to go back to Amaranthine for a while. So if you wish to go somewhere else, I'll understand. If the little bird I received word from this morning is right, Alistair has been sighted on the road to the Frostbacks, probably on his way to Skyhold, so if you want to go there, you are free to do so."

Cullen stared into the fire while she talked, and when she quieted it was his turn to not speak for a while. But when he did, he did it with determination. "I don't… I don't want to get involved. I think the best thing I can do for myself – and for Ashe, for that matter – is to just stay away. I have to let her go."

Saying it out loud made him feel like a weight had been released from his chest. He felt sad, but he knew it was the right move. When he looked at Mahariel again, he was surprised to see her smiling widely at him.

"That is the smartest thing I've ever heard you say, Rutherford. Of course, that's not saying much..."

"Hey! Don't you be cheeky with me, Mrs. Rutherford."

Mahariel held her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, but she didn't complain about him calling her his name, and that filled him with warmth.

"So," she said. "What do you want to do now?"

Ashe

She sat in her throne, and her heart raced as she looked at the man before her. She wanted to scream at him, slap him, she wanted to throw her arms around him, kiss him, fuck him, or perhaps throw him into the dog pen and let them chew at him. Perhaps all those things at once.

"Leave us," she barked, her eyes never leaving Alistair as the rest of the people in the throne room cleared out, leaving only the two of them in there. Hawke hadn't come in with the rest of them, which puzzled her, but she could hardly concentrate on that or anything else when the man she loved and hated stood right there in front of her.

To Ashe's surprise, Alistair didn't grovel, didn't plead with her or beg for her forgiveness. His expression was stern as he started speaking.

"I'm sorry, your Worship, if my arrival caused any sort of a scene." Ashe winced at his use of her title, but remained silent. "I'm not here to stir up any trouble, or to disturb you, or to try to persuade you to come back with me. You left and I accept that. But I don't want any ill feelings between us. I want to clear up the misunderstanding of that…" Ashe saw how he clenched his teeth together. "That last night before you left," he continued. "Whatever you might think of me, I cannot bear the thought of you believing I would do such a thing to you."

Ashe opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off with a raised hand. "I know you have little reason to believe me. I admit, I would do things… I have done vile things to make you mine. I have lied, schemed, manipulated. But I won't say I'm sorry, because I'm not. I would do it all over again." His voice was steady as a rock, ringing with absolute truth – there was no denying it. She could hear it in every syllable, and her heartbeat was slamming inside her chest. She could barely stand to look at him, to look at his beautiful face, not while he said those things to her. It made her knees weak. It shouldn't, but the lengths he had gone to, that he would go to again – she screamed at herself internally, but it did something to her all the same. And the fact that he had not a trace of shame in his face over it pulled her in further, whether she wanted it to or not. If he were to change his tone now and start to grovel, she would kick him out faster than he could finish his begging. She wished that he would so that she would have an excuse – pathetic, sniveling men were beneath her, disgusting, not worthy of respect.

But Alistair did no such thing.

"I didn't come here to profess my undying love to you. I only came to make what I can right between us. For Ferelden's sake, your Worship. Will you please meet with me tonight, after me and my men have rested after the long journey?"

Ashe blinked several times. For Ferelden's sake? She composed herself and cleared her now very dry throat.

"Of course, your Majesty."

Alistair gave her a curt bow and left swiftly, leaving her sitting there, more confused than ever.

Not a minute later, she could hear a familiar voice behind her. "Don't believe a word he's telling you, Ashe."