"Inquisitor, darling, may I have a moment of your time."
"Of course, Vivienne," the Inquisitor replied with a hint of tiredness in her voice. Inquisition business did not wait for Evelyn to recuperate upon her return home. That very evening she was buttoned into a gown and thrown into a sea of nobles by Josephine to mingle, taking advantage of The Herald being home after a month away. Forcing Sorin along with her, she sent him off to find something stronger than wine to help them cope with the evening festivities.
"I've just welcomed one of my close friends from the Circle of Montsimmard to Skyhold. Apparently, she had assisted you while you were in the Emprise du Lion, and wishes to join the Inquisition officially! She is a Senior Enchanter of great breeding, and unmatched in her healing abilities."
"Can't have too many of those, but I already know who you speak of."
Vivienne looked disappointed at having been robbed of the opportunity, "Oh?" She gestured at someone amongst the crowd in the Great Hall.
It was then that Sorin reappeared with two questionable tankards, settling comfortably by her side. “Cabot sends his regards. Quick, before the Lady Ambassador sees,” he whispered over to her. They clanked mugs and tried to down it before Josie caught them.
When they finished chugging it down, a familiar face poked through the throng of nobles milling about. "Well, then you already know Lady Miriam de Montfort, Senior Enchanter."
Her fellow Knight-Enchanter gurgled his sip, giving her a sideways glare as he spoke into his tankard, “She’s still here?”
"Sorin,” her tone was one of chastisement, “Miri will be staying on with us. She's joining the Inquisition." Evelyn smiled looking at Sorin for his reaction. The raven-haired mage froze, then tipped his cup up as he walked away. Miriam stood rigid watching him with anticipation, but her lower pink lip slowly drooped down. “It’s not you, Miri, he’s mad at me for dragging him to this dinner.”
Having regained his composure, the broody hybrid returned with a glimmer in his pale eyes. Evelyn looked at him curiously knowing he was up to something, when through the raven locks spilling on his forehead she saw his eyes narrow. “E, your hair. How did you mess it up already?”
Her eyes widened, whispering harshly, “What’s wrong with it?!” Her hands quickly patted her usual half-up style, checking for any stray pieces. As the two went back and forth over it, he eventually pulled a lock that made one of her braids bunch and frizz. When Sorin began laughing having succeeded in his trick to mess her hair up, a glance at a reflective tray nearby confirmed it was ruined. She should’ve known that if something had been wrong Vivienne would fixed it. With flaring nostrils and glowing eyes, she spoke through her teeth, “I’m going to fucking kill you in your sleep next time we are on the road.” He smiled smugly back at her like a troublesome child, unfazed by the threat.
“Language!” Both of the Montsimmard Circle mages scolded.
Uncaring of the scolding, Evelyn was more irritated by her best friend’s enjoyment. His subtle chuckling made a rare smile appear which Miriam caught, immediately making her descend into a hiccup fit.
Looking at her Orlesian friend with a bit of undignified horror, Vivienne gracefully hooked arms with the Inquisitor for a side conversation. "Excuse us a moment, dears." Out of earshot, she imparted, "Now, she may appear demure and comely, as I'm sure you are aware of, but aside from her talent in the healing arts, there is no better player of The Game. We would do well to have her on our side."
Evelyn stared at her skeptically, her rage abating for confusion. "Miriam? That Miriam? Is an expert player?"
"Yes," the mage's gray eyes conveyed the weight of truth in her words, "make no mistake, her whole façade of innocence is a move in The Game. Who her patron is, no one yet knows, but they must be incredibly powerful to be able to afford one of her lineage and… skill."
"Leliana has not found anything tying her to a patron or any dubious activity, and I've been with her for a few weeks now, surly if she was up to something I would've caught it." That was a bit of a lie, for the only thing the girl seemed interested in was her unreciprocated crush on Sorin.
"That only proves her exceptional abilities, dear. The De Montforts are second to none when it comes to the Game. Every move is calculated, every word measured," she murmured with a kind of resigned admiration.
From behind, Miriam's voice floated over, as she was speaking to another noble having been abandoned by Sorin. “It’s true, I did assist Her Worship in Emprise du Lion. She is very skilled in the Inferno school. One would think they'd call her a firebird!”
The Ferelden noble speaking with her, blinked blankly at her a few times, "They do. She's called the Phoenix of Ostwick."
Vivienne's eyes glinted with satisfaction as she nodded. “You see, now everyone will think she is dull and naïve, not taking her seriously. They'll let slip important bits of information in her presence... As I was saying, a true master of the Game.”
Evelyn, her skepticism still lingering, raised an eyebrow but held her tongue. Arguing with Vivienne, the undisputed expert in such matters, seemed futile. Perhaps there were subtleties at play that she could not grasp. Yet, she felt like their recent trials had brought them to work closely enough that she could say for certain she was harmless.
As they turned to rejoin the gathering, a scene unfolded before them. Miriam, with an air of desperation, attempted to catch Sorin's attention. The young Knight-Enchanter, however, was determined to look anywhere but at the healer. In her frantic attempts, the Orlesian collided with a woman holding a glass of wine. The red liquid spilled across the elegant dress, and a chorus of fussing and complaints followed. Miriam's face turned pale with mortification as she stumbled over apologies.
Vivienne leaned in close to the pyromancer, her voice a soft, conspiratorial whisper. “Another excellent move. She has just arrived, and already she has made an impact. The woman she bumped into is Lady Monu, notorious for her stinginess with donations to the Inquisition. Lady De Montfort has put her in her place with a single, bold stroke. Lady Monu cannot spend days here building connections and enjoying our wine while neglecting her contributions. This ‘accidental’ spill will be the talk among the nobles in Skyhold for days.”
The Inquisitor simply hummed unsure of what in the Void was going on. Needing to tell Sorin, she called him over much to the dismay of Miriam. "Vivienne just told me Miri supposedly has a wealthy patron and is an expert player of The Game."
His nose scrunched up at her as if she were daft. "No."
"Yes."
"No." They glared at each other. "E, there is no way she is playing The Game. Did you not just see her spill wine over that lady?"
"I did, and was informed by Madame de Fer that it was an effective move."
He turned his back to the mage and the gathering muttering as he walked away. "Oh for fuck's sake. This is getting ridiculous. Where's the Commander? I'm sick of escorting you to these dinners. At least he was good for something."
Her heart sank at his mention. Cullen was not having an easy time after his exposure to red lyrium. Though he did show improvement on their journey home, no one knew when the effects would wear off. Unlike his two furry friends who were sharing his sickbed, he hadn't taken the lyrium, so his recovery was expected, whereas the Mabari brothers' fate was still unknown. The Commander was taking their struggle personally, sympathizing with their ups and downs as reflected in his own health.
Evelyn punched his arm, eliciting an 'ow' from the Storm mage. "Speaking of, cover for me while I go check on him."
“Go on, ruin my night further.” Sorin rolled his eyes, "And if the Ambassador asks where you've gone?"
"Dorian and I accidentally went back to the future; I opened a rift and hopped in; I was stolen by Avvar; I don't care, just don't tell her I went to see him, she’ll hunt me down. I'll be back... maybe. Use this time to go talk to your beau." She couldn't help but bite back a laugh, giving him a wink.
"She's not my--" The Inquisitor fade-stepped away before he could finish.
Making her way invisibly into the Commander's tower, when she materialized in his office she hesitated before climbing the ladder. From above her, she could hear his hoarse voice reading to the pups, giving them lessons out of his technical guides to battle. A small smile spread on her lips listening to him and his blunt commentary on the author's methods. Now and then his two companions barked or whined back in agreement, making her heart melt when he praised them back.
"Are you well enough for a visitor?" She called up, listening to the Mabaris attempt to growl at the sound of her voice.
He shushed them before answering hoarsely, "As if you have to ask!"
Climbing the ladder, noting the new pulley system for the dogs, she snorted a laugh, "Will your pets let me?"
"Of course, they're in training. They'll get used to you, if not, you'll have to go."
Popping her head up over the floor, she frowned, "You better be kidding, Rutherford. I took a crystal to the chest for you, surely that put me above two mutts." She laughed just to be sure he took it as a joke and not to rehash anything about Ryker.
"We Fereldens take our dogs seriously. They are an excellent judge of character." The gray pup growled again at her, "Enough, Calenhad." He gave him a stern look and the Mabari quieted. Granted, the poor thing was still sick, so he wasn't as vicious as he could be.
The brown one was much more curious, belly crawling over to sniff her foot. "And what do you call this one?"
"That's Scout. He's more adventurous while his brother here is more guarded."
She bent and gently petted Scout who sat languidly wagging his tail. "Poor love, are you feeling any better yet?" The Mabari's eyes were still bloodshot in the corners. He looked up at her with a pitiful whine and she couldn't resist the descent into babbling at him like he was a baby.
Cullen groaned, "Don't talk to him like that! He's a fierce warrior, not a lapdog!" She ignored him to nuzzle Scout's nose. "Today was one of the better days, but I fear it's not passed through them completely yet." Cullen patted Calenhad's thick head.
Evelyn broke her attention away from the dog to get closer to her Commander. "And what about you? I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, but you know how out of hand things get when I get home."
"I know, no need to apologize. I'm in good company." Scout and Calenhad scooted over to flank him on either side atop the bed. She sat in front of the gray Mabari, who growled a short burst before watching her.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Can I touch you without pain finally?" Reaching up timidly, her hand reached for the short beard he had grown after being bedridden. The dark blonde and almost brown hair of his face only served to make him more handsome – if it was possible. As her fingers brushed against it, she was ready to pull away at the slightest sign of discomfort, but it didn't come. With sighs of relief, they embraced in full.
The feel of his arms around her felt like she was home. It was a hard sensation to pin down; it was longing, warmth, safety, and love. The wider his hands spread about her form, the tighter she curled into him. It was like its own form of healing as she listened to the beating of his heart and the pulls of his breath. The ache that sat like a rock in her chest ever since Evelyn never thought she could feel so connected to another's soul the way theirs was. Wherever he was, was where she wanted to be too.
Turning her head outwards, Evelyn caught the eye of Calenhad staring her down. "Um, I'd venture a kiss, but your guard dog here looks none too pleased I'm touching you."
He chuckled with a slight cough, "He won’t hurt you."
"Remember that when he's chewing on my face–" Cullen cut her off, turning her face to meet his lips. Though she held her breath at first, when the large pup hopped off the bed she felt more at ease to melt into him. Evelyn could've lived in the moment forever. She treasured every kiss, every embrace, not knowing what lay ahead for them in the future. Not being able to touch him because of her mana had been gut-wrenching. Her thoughts began spilling into his lips, "I just want you better, I don't like seeing you like this."
Parting, she was happy to see some vibrancy return to his rare eyes, "If it's any consolation, I don't like being like this." His eyes trailed down her front, "By the way, where did you just come from? You know your hair is– I mean, it… looks nice."
She huffed angrily having forgotten about Sorin’s trick until now. Quickly unraveling it all until it fell loose, she sat rebraiding it. "I magically escaped one of Josie's dinners," a cheeky smile graced her face. "Sorin is covering for me."
He laughed lowly, "I'm sure he's just thrilled that you abandoned him. As you can see, I'm well-attended. I suggest you go back and rescue him because he's probably cursing the both of us."
"He’s a big boy… no–"
"I'm fine, truly, Eve. No need to babysit me."
"I worry yes, but it's not that, it's," she nodded toward the short train of her gown that had a wet stain on it, "Calenhad just peed on my dress."
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"I believe the most urgent matter is the alliance proposal from the Qun. The Storm Coast beckons you, Inquisitor." Leliana's smirk was unappreciated, knowing just what kind of misery that blasted strip of Ferelden caused her. It would be a few weeks of soggy socks and earthy-smelling wet hair plastered to her face.
With a small groan of disappointment, Evelyn's shoulders sagged, "Is there a nice place you can send me to for once? The Free Marches, maybe?"
The next morning they had moved their council meeting to the Commander's Tower. Cullen was well enough to climb down the ladder but nothing else. He was under strict bedrest orders from the mages to give his body every chance to focus on calming his lyrium withdrawal. Yet, he refused to let it hinder his abilities to command his forces, saying that it was his body, not mind, that was recovering.
His aide, Loren, was in a constant state of exhaustion on personal errands for him all around Skyhold. The Surfacer dwarf was a relative of Scout Harding who spoke well of her, and needing someone reliable and detail-oriented, the Commander offered her the job back in the Emprise du Lion. Cullen had runners and a valet, but Loren’s role was to help manage his growing stack of clerical work. Now with him recovering, her role has become even more critical even if the job needed to be filled a long time ago.
Above them, his trusty Mabaris whined and huffed at his absence. Occasionally, he barked up at them to behave with a command, but after so long the creak of the bed signaled their surrender in favor of a nap.
Sitting behind his desk, Cullen squinted his eyes in pain and tried moving the tight muscles of his shield arm. Josephine, always politely asking after everyone, especially following a mission, noticed his discomfort immediately. "Are you alright, Commander? Did you injure yourself in battle?"
"Oh, yes. It's just sore. I don't recover as quickly as I used to, it seems."
Evelyn bit her lip, unable to resist, "Getting old, Commander?"
"The only thing getting old is your sass--" His jest came so naturally that he didn't even perceive the slip until afterward. He cleared his throat, "Apologies, that was unprofessional." He didn't seem to be addressing the Inquisitor so much as the other advisors.
"Speaking of," the Ambassador began with a coy, yet scolding look, "rumors about the Inquisitor's secret affair with her Commander are beginning to get out of hand. More so since you've returned from Orlais. Did something happen that we need to be aware of?"
Evelyn thought back, but couldn't think of a thing. She looked up at Cullen for confirmation, "No?" He looked as baffled as she. "I mean, we could hardly be in each other's presence due to the red lyrium's bleeding effects."
The Commander rubbed his chin with his hand, "You did wear my mantle and my old coat."
Evelyn huffed, "Yes, but not because we're courting! I was freezing! You just pulled me out of the frozen river!"
Leliana fingered her pink lips, "How romantic." It was more accusatory than wistful.
The Inquisitor shot her a look ignoring the comment, "And you said yourself you never wore the old coat for people to know it belonged to you, and again, it was for good reason! All my clothes were ripped, soiled in blood, or beyond use. Every instance could be easily explained and dismissed as kindness. We do work closely together, don't people think it would be odd if we weren’t—"
"We shared a tent." All three women froze looking at him. Evelyn had forgotten about that. She had been so sick, that most of that time was a fuzzy unpleasant memory.
"You did what?!" The Ambassador's face was rising in color, but the Spymaster was biting back a smirk, blinking at them. "No wonder the Orlesians are writing wild accounts of your time there."
The Commander held his hands up in defense as he explained the situation they had found themselves in and how they had taken precautions against rumors. "I temporarily had use of my Templar abilities granted by the red lyrium, as you know, and was the only one who could help the Inquisitor. Everyone saw how sick the mages were, including Evelyn. We were completely transparent about her presence in my tent. I wasn't even present half the time!"
"Regardless," Josephine cut in, "we need to dispel some of the rumors. These things need to be done properly and a statement should’ve been made before things got to this point."
A warm heat began to spread in the usually cool stone tower. All eyes looked to the pyromancer eluding a soft orange glow from her veins and eyes. Her raptor glare flickered between all of them as she relayed her displeasure. "I have had about enough of everyone, and I do mean everyone, sticking their noses in my personal affairs." Seeing the Ambassador raise her quill to protest, Evelyn's marked hand halted her, "I understand I am the Inquisitor and the implications such a title brings, but have I not done all you've asked of me? Have I suddenly given up the cause to elope? No! Nor would I!"
Cullen's eyes were on the ground, trying to be a neutral presence — or maybe he was hoping the ground swallowed him, it was hard to tell. Josephine's face was sympathetic while Leliana was unreadable. Not needing to play neat and clean politics with the other nations any more, Evelyn felt there was no reason why they needed to address such silliness. It was a chronic issue she was tired of wasting time on. They had done it to her from the start, why was this time any different?
The Inquisitor placed her hands on her hips deepening her glower, directing it at the Ambassador, "We will do nothing to abate the rumors and we shall ignore their games for our mission comes first. I will not waste resources and time just because a bunch of Orlesians mock my personal affairs for their amusement. I owe them no explanation." Her emotions were overflowing after everything that happened in the Emprise du Lion: the bitter cold; battling for weeks without aid; red lyrium poisoning; Ishmael; and Samson's army. The unfairness of her circumstances hit her, for as they lounged in comfort gossiping about her, she was out fighting for her life – their lives!
Then there was Cullen who was private and guarded by nature. It pained her that they'd drag him through the dirt, no doubt repeating the very list of insecurities that he had about himself courting her.
"Yes, Inquisitor." Josephine sighed in resignation on the subject. Evelyn knew if the situation was critical she would've made a bigger fuss about it. "What would you like our official stance to be on the matter if asked?"
"The Inquisitor's official stance is," the Antivan readied her quill, "for them to fuck off."
"To the point as always, Inquisitor," she dryly replied.
Breaking the tension the Commander interjected wearily, "Back to the Storm Coast mission... give me a day and I can have everything ready for your departure and have the route north secured."
"Very well. I'll ready my team. They did say no reinforcements, correct?" She directed her question to the Spymaster.
"Yes, our Qun contact said too many soldiers will spook the Venatori smugglers. I'll send scouts with you though, they'll never know they're there." With business concluded, Evelyn was about to dismiss them when she added, "And Inquisitor, I have the information you wanted on Solas, Enchanter Miriam De Montfort, and Michel De Chevin. If we're done here, I'd like to discuss it in the rookery."
"After you," she gestured and they filed out.
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Commander Rutherford of the Inquisition,
It is a pleasure to hear from you, I always appreciate a man who doesn't shirk their duty – though if what my daughter has written of you is true, you have devoted your life to duty much like herself, so I expect no less. I am quite used to the unconventional when Evelyn is involved, so I hope her writing to me first did not cause injury to your pride. Though again, courting Evelyn speaks volumes of the type of patient man you must be, ser.
I cannot tell you how crushing it was as a father to learn of the life she would live under the Chantry law in the Circle. As I'm sure you are aware, Evelyn is as uncontainable as a wildfire. From her strong will to magic, I was never surprised to hear from the Knight-Commander of Ostwick – Andraste watch over his soul -- that she was the cause of most of the quiet Circle's disruptions. If she can live a semblance of a normal life, I would aid her however I can.
Having been honest with me about your station, I respect that you wish to provide a suitable living for her. I recall that I made you an offer to command my company of Rangers, that would provide a comfortable wage. I also appreciate your eventual desire to retire from the life of a soldier. I have other business ventures here in the Free Marches that I’d be happy to discuss with you. Having been separated from my daughter for most of her life, I would be remiss if I didn’t try and tempt you to settle on this side of the Waking Sea.
I must confess, Evelyn is very dear to me and I swore never to part from her unless I was absolutely sure she was safe and happy. Honestly, I never expected to marry as a mage, and now that the opportunity has presented itself – even if the circumstances were unfortunate – I understand your wishes to seize it.
I suppose what I'm trying to impart to you, ser, is that regardless of what I say, my little firebird will do as she wants. I would ask that we meet, for I'd like to acquaint myself with the man who possesses her affection. I shall arrange a visit to Skyhold in the future. I look forward to our meeting, ser. May the Maker watch over the Inquisition.
Sincerely,
Bann Drexford Trevelyan of Ostwick
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"Ambassador, a moment," Cullen's voice was strained when he called her back at the conclusion of the meeting.
Closing the door that led to the Main Keep once the other ladies exited, she tilted her head in question, "Yes, Commander?"
He swallowed hard, looking around once more to make sure they were alone. "I received word back from Bann Trevelyan."
"And?" Her large gray eyes blinked in anticipation as her heels clicked along the floor toward him in tandem.
"I believe it was favorable, but he wants to meet with me... here. I was hoping..."
She cut him off with a graceful wave of her hand, "Leave the finer details to me! This is wonderful news! I know what I said in the meeting was not what Evie wanted to hear, but I do only meant to help. You both are public figures now of great interest to the world. Your personal affairs will always be a desired distraction from the Elder One’s plans to destroy the world."
"I know that, and while I agree wholeheartedly with the Inquisitor in her handling of the matter, I worry about what is to come. We haven't formally announced anything yet and look how people are acting. I feel Evelyn will want to... move things along, but I fear the consequences."
"I understand. Perhaps, we can persuade Bann Trevelyan to intercede, or better yet, Lady Trevelyan."
"Maker, I almost forgot about that woman," he pinched the bridge of his nose at the memory of her.
Josephine laughed lightly, "She will be your mother-in-law, and while she is an... energetic and opinionated individual, those strengths could be of use to you."
He chortled sarcastically, "I don't think you understand what Evelyn would do if her mother found out, let alone became involved with any... plans. Besides, as I heard it from Owayne, she has been expressly forbidden from any involvement regarding her marriage by the Bann after the Ryker Aeron affair."
“Then simply tell her father you wish to wait until you have a suitable living, not to mention a home.”
“Well, I may have… made some progress in that area.” Raising an eyebrow, she settled herself on the corner of his desk with poise waiting to hear more. “I wrote to my eldest sister, Mia, asking her help with a land purchase just outside of South Reach. If my memory hasn’t failed me yet, it was a beautiful spot beside a lake where my siblings and I visited often. It was always unclaimed, just far enough away from the village where most don’t wander, yet close enough to get supplies…”
“It sounds lovely, Cullen.” Josephine smiled reassuringly. “So, did you purchase it?” He nodded definitely, a small proud smile playing on his scared face. “Congratulations! I’m sure Evelyn is—”
He cut her off, “She doesn’t know.”
Cullen watched as Josephine’s face shifted between several conflicting emotions. He supposed this was a good practice run in what to expect from Evelyn once he broke the news to her. “But you’ve spoken to her about living in Ferelden, no?” His souring expression clued her into the answer. “I see.”
“She’s never been particular about anything like that. We’ve lived in the Circle half our lives and it was never home. Home has always been more about who you were with or…”
She raised a hand between them to halt his rambling, “I wasn’t necessarily disagreeing with your decision – you know her the best – but I also know this is very new for the both of you. Typically, a couple does talk about this sort of decision.”
Doubt began to plague him. Had he been the one to move too fast? Even her father expressed his wish to have her close to him, willing to provide him with a position and living just so they were near. Evelyn was always unsure of the future – aside from wanting to be with him – thanks to Corypheus. Had he selfishly made a major decision for them, wanting so badly to prove to her, the Bann, and himself that he could stand on his own?
“Cullen,” Josephine’s soft voice broke him from his troubled thoughts, “do what you feel is right for the both of you. The Bann will certainly have his opinions about what he wishes for his daughter, but you are the one she loves. If you have doubts, I know of another Trevelyan here in Skyhold who could help.” He nodded, tenting his hands retreating again into his thoughts as the Ambassador made for the door. "I believe I owe you my thanks for delivering my letter."
He picked his head up, "It was no trouble."
Her face became thoughtful, "Perhaps, I should follow the Inquisitor's lead and keep what company I wish regardless of what people may think of us."
Cullen's chuckle was combined with a light cough, "It can't be any worse than the Inquisitor and Commander – a mage and Templar at that." It wasn’t that he was ashamed, he just didn’t like people making up their own opinions about their relationship. He knew for Josephine that it was a different matter entirely. “If people truly knew about us, you’d really have your hands full.”
She sighed, “Even so, it would be much cheerier than most of the news of late despite our victories. I do hope you’ll let me know when you plan to propose. I have so many ideas–” Watching his face pale, she cleared her throat, “One thing at a time, meeting with the Bann first! You will not regret eliciting my help!”
“Maker, I hope not.”