It had been a week since she revealed her identity with two more weeks to go before the Conclave. So far it had been very eventful with the amount of action they were seeing due to the resistance against the Divine's Conclave. It was a rare day when there were no hostile encounters with either of the rebel groups. With herself and Sorin now being heavily relied upon for magical support, they were rarely in camp. At least one of them was always out on patrol while the other assisted in training new mage recruits willing to help - though it'd be sometime before they were ready for the field. Evelyn loved every minute of it, finally feeling useful.
"Well, well, look who's late for training today lads!" Rylen always had the ability to put a smile on her face. His everlasting cheerful mood was contagious even now as she tried to shake off a hangover from the previous night of revelry. He regaled the small gathering of trainees of the previous night's highlights, such as Evelyn's "glorious" singing voice, his awkward failed attempt to woo her and Sorin cleaning them out of their coin in Wicked Grace. "That wee little bit of whiskey knocked you on your arse? I thought you were made of tougher stuff Trevelyan."
"I assure you I am, but it's hard to find a good drink when you're on the run in the middle of nowhere for a year. Lost a bit of my tolerance. Besides, I also had to vacate my tent for a few hours for the lovebirds." She looked over at Henley with a glaring look. He shrugged smugly.
"My lady was in the mood, who I am to say no to her."
"Well, if the Commander has an issue with my tardiness, be sure to tell him that."
"Tell me what, Trevelyan? That you're late." She turned to attention, uttering an apology that went ignored. "I don't need excuses today. The Divine wishes to see us right away." Her heart all but stopped. The Most Holy of Holinesses wants to speak with her! Now!? She knew the Divine would eventually send for her, but she thought she'd have more warning and time to prepare. She was hungover and not dressed to be in her presence - not that she had nice clothes anymore anyway. She was wearing her usual fitted heavy plum-colored wool shirt, leather greaves, thigh-high boots and leather band buckled at the waist. Thankfully she had the good sense to take the time to braid her hair, even if it did also contribute to her lateness. It was comprised of five braids: one large thick braid on top of her head starting at her forehead with two braids on both sides of her head blending up into the larger one. While it made her look formidable, she really liked its practicality of keeping her hair out of her face as she whipped about throwing spells. She fondly thought back to how her father had described her in the letter to Sister Nightingale with that very braid.
She followed the Commander through the gates of Haven village, the guards saluting him as he passed. It was now the second time she had been inside the walls. There were a number of small cabins directly inside the gates, assumingly the quarters of the Commander and his officers. Ascending up the steps, there was a fire with a smartly dressed dwarf warming his hands nearby. As they passed, he and the Commander exchanged glances. The dwarf turned to her appraising her with a sly eye. As he went to open his mouth the Commander raised a hand to him.
"Not now dwarf." Feigning slightly insulted, he still held his smirk undeterred by the Commander's growling.
"And who's your new friend, Curly?" The Commander didn't stop and just kept walking ignoring his question. Evelyn gave a smile, feeling a bit sorry at the Commander's treatment of him at a simple question. When they reached the Chantry doors, and out of earshot she couldn't help but ask about him.
"You didn't seem to like that dwarf back there, Commander."
"Oh, Varric? He is a... guest of the Divine."
"Not Varric Tethras? The author?" He grunted an annoyed confirmation. She smiled to herself, but as usual, nothing she seemed to do went unnoticed by him.
"I assume you're a fan then?"
"I enjoyed some of his works, but I was thinking more of how thrilled Enchanter Ilara will be once I tell her. Did you know, as we were escaping the tower back in Ostwick, I told her to pack essentials - you know clothes, bedroll and the like - and you know what she packed? Her collection of Swords & Shields." She laughed at her own story, though he didn't seem amused by it in the slightest. Since she had saved his life he had been a bit cold to her. Part of her wanted to believe it was just how he was as a commanding officer to not be as chummy with those under his command, but there was plenty of evidence to the contrary. "You don't seem the type of Templar to hate mages, so I'm wondering then what issue you have with me?" He seemed taken back for a moment by her candidness.
"I certainly don't find an issue with you being a mage, it's perhaps the fact that you lied to us from the start. I find it hard then to trust anything you say."
"I had my reasons."
"And so do I."
They settled into an uncomfortable silence the remainder of the way through the Chantry to where The Divine was waiting for them. He stopped in front of the door to one of the side chambers towards the back of the long hall.
"The Divine is through here. I trust you know how to behave in her presence and won't show her the same callousness you showed her Left and Right Hands?" It seems aside from her lie he didn't much appreciate that either. She had been cornered in a cell outnumbered by the three of them interrogating her, was she not to defend herself? She bit back the urge to say something smart, trying to remember that he was her superior officer and had the authority to send her back to the infirmary for duty, or worse.
"I know how to act properly, Commander. I'm a Trevelyan." He knocked and opened the door upon hearing the Seeker's voice. The chamber was small and sparsely adorned for someone of The Divine's status to make use of, though she doubted there was much better in the tiny village. The Divine sat in a grand-looking chair that had certainly been brought with her, for it was unlike all the furnishings around her. Incense burned on a table nearby that held an assortment of fine food and wine. To the left and right of The Divine were her respective Hands. The Commander took a knee before The Divine then joined Sister Leliana at her side.
"Most Holy," Cullen began, "may I present Knight-Enchanter Evelyn Trevelyan of the Ostwick Circle of Magi." She noticed he omitted the "Lady" part of her title, wondering if it was purposely done.
Regardless, Evelyn stepped forward. Since she did not have a dress on, a curtsey was out of the question. She remembered once while in Orlais on Circle business, she watched a chevalier perform an impressive sweeping bow before one of the Council of Heralds. Impressed by the display, she couldn't help but practice it when she was alone, not thinking she'd ever be in a situation where she'd be able to use it. It would seem all that practice would finally pay off, as she performed it perfectly for The Divine and finished it by kneeling as the Commander had done.
"Rise, Knight-Enchanter. It is an honor to finally meet you." Her voice was soft and warm. Her Orlesian accent rolled elegantly off her tongue. Her face was wrinkled showing her many years of life crinkling together as she gave a small smile.
"The honor is mine, Most Holy. I must first apologize for not making my presence known and would like to explain my actions to you and your advisors, if I may. I fear when I first met with your advisors I was not myself, and for that, I offer my sincere apology to them." She put a hand to her heart bowing slightly. As expected, the advisors did not seem swayed, no doubt believing this was part of The Game. Though she had not been prepared to see The Divine so soon, she had considered how to better explain her actions to the advisors. She was never one to shy away from confrontation and she came to the conclusion nothing could be gained by being at odds with them. If she didn't make amends she'd be looking over her shoulder for a dagger in the back from The Nightingale or end up in that Maker forsaken cell again. She didn't travel to Haven to make enemies, she came to help stop the war - and that meant helping them.
"I know how I came off to the three of you upon waking in the cell, but my first and foremost concern has always been for the Ostwick mages and Templars. After the Circle fell and hearing the rebels admit it was my treatment under one particularly evil man that spurred them to rebel, I felt responsible for rendering them homeless. I then vowed to protect them at any cost. When word reached us that I was wanted by various parties, it was decided together that I should remain under a different name for the protection of the group. There were only fifteen fighters to about fifty healers, untrained mages and Tranquil. I'm sure the Commander could understand the severity of such a ratio."
She went on to reiterate the events that befell them as they escaped the tower. The only part she omitted - because Maker forbid she lie to The Divine- was the part where she killed the Knight-Commander. It wasn't lying if she never mentioned it, right? With as much time that had passed since that day, the guilt of his death at her hands felt as fresh as it ever had. She channeled that emotion into her words hoping it would be enough to convince them.
"In coming here I hoped to join the other Circles at the Conclave to advocate for reform, as I have been doing for over ten years now. The change the rebel groups are trying to force on the people of Thedas will fail, of that I have no doubt. The Circles must be reinstated and the Templars must purge themselves of corruption. Both sides deserve better care and treatment from the Chantry who played no small part in inciting the hatred between mages and Templars. Templars are vital to the safety of mages, but we mages can no longer pretend any more than the Templars that the Chantry's rules do nothing but foster hostility. We are people. Mages were never the only ones imprisoned by the Chantry; Templars are as well through their addiction to lyrium." She noticed the Commander perk up. His expression softened to one of thoughtfulness rather than the scowl he had worn. "Even if things had happened differently, I can promise you I would have been here to assist you, Most Holy, because this needs to change." Evelyn looked to the four in front of her who's composure and expressions had changed, with the exception of The Divine's Left Hand. The Divine shifted in her grand seat with all the practiced dignity befitting her office.
"I am sorry for the hardship this war has cost you and the others. Sometimes such hardships are necessary to create change. I believe we both are in a unique situation where we can help each other, which is why I wished to find and speak with you. I can declare your innocence of the charges against you with ease and protect you while you reside here at Haven, along with the rest of the Ostwick mages and Templars. In return, as my Hands have already spoken to you about, I would like your support to help end the war and come to an amiable accord with the rebel groups. You are in a favorable position to help mediate both sides, and once I declare your innocence and repair your reputation you will be an effective ally to me during the talks." She was relieved to hear that Most Holy's goal was thus, and she could commit herself to be her ally even if she did have her own political reasons for hosting the talks. Truth be told, Evelyn wanted very much to voice her disappointment to the Most Holy about her encouragement of the rebellion but decided against it. It was a battle for another day. "So, Knight-Enchanter, may I count you as my ally for the Conclave?"
"Absolutely, your Holiness." Divine Justina smiled ever so slightly then looked to her Left Hand.
"Very good. Leliana, I would like word sent out that The Phoenix will be attending the Conclave as my guest and will speak of reforms in the Circles. Clear her reputation and announce that she is already at Haven awaiting the Conclave with the Circle of Ostwick. That I hope will encourage others to begin to make the journey here. Cassandra, you will assist Commander Cullen in preparing the camp to receive more pilgrims. I have faith in the Maker that this will work." She turned once more to Evelyn. "Knight-Enchanter, I would like you to be a visible presence in camp and ambassador to any mages who arrive in Haven. The Commander will involve you in matters as he sees fit." She consented. "One more request if I may?" Apparently knowing where this was going, the Seeker gave a disgusted grunt which Most Holy ignored. Sister Nightingale, however actually looked quite amused. The Divine's face quirked up into a youthful smirk. "Would it be possible for you to show us your famed Phoenix wings?" Evelyn couldn't help letting a small chesty laugh out.
"Unfortunately, your Holiness, I can't control them. Never have. Usually, I also need an unhealthy amount of rage as well to bring them forth." Even though she couldn't grant her request, The Divine took the disappointment in good humor. Evelyn was then dismissed feeling pleased with the current arrangement. Things were finally looking up after a year of disparagement on the run.
As she went to close the door to the small chamber, the brown leather glove of the Commander stuck through the door halting it. Since she had been dismissed she didn't bother to wait for him and began to make her way to the main doors of the Chantry, when she heard him calling for her.
"Was that the truth?" Her jaw dropped. He's seriously insinuating that I lied to The Divine. I may have left out a bit of the story, but I didn't outright lie. Her inward thoughts made their way to her face, and she thought for a second she saw the fear of the Maker in his eyes. She opened and shut her mouth a few times thinking better of her words each time, and when words failed she gave a frustrated growl. If he didn't believe her, the others certainly didn't.
"How dare you!" She got up into his face, "How dare you accuse me of lying to The Divine!" Her voice echoed through the hall which was thankfully mostly deserted. She was way out of line, but after spilling her heart out to them for him to still question her motives was too much. He had no right to question her when The Divine had pardoned her. She lowered her voice, without losing its edge not wanting the whole of the Chantry to hear her. Had she not had her cowl on she knew she would've blinded herself with the glow of her mana off his armor. "Let me help you off of your high horse Commander, as you pretend you've never lied for someone you care about!"
"That's enough, Trevelyan!" He didn't shy away from her. His nose wrinkled up a bit in anger and his brows drew down. She couldn't help thinking that the intensity of his anger made him slightly more attractive. The same resolve that flickered in her eyes she saw in him. And while she admired it, it did nothing to quell her own rage. She was a Trevelyan; one of the most dedicated families in all of Thedas to the Chantry. She was about to remind him of that fact when he interjected, "For what it's worth I believe you." She felt the tension in her face slowly begin to relax. She thought of what she wanted to say after her blatant disrespect of him again. She wanted their trust; she wanted his trust.
"It was the truth. I fully intend to follow through on our agreement. And believe me when I say if I didn't have people to protect, I would've done it anyway without wanting anything from you." She let that sit with him a moment, as she took a step back to a respectable distance. "I'm sorry for my tone, ser. May I be dismissed?" He offered her a slight nod before once again turning to leave for good this time.
As she headed back to the training grounds, she was stopped again by the dwarf, who she now knew to be Varric Tethras. She approached his fire warming herself since she had not worn her cloak, thinking she'd be working up a sweat by now training. After introducing themselves and chatting about what brought them to Haven, he invited her to meet him at The Singing Maiden that evening for drinks and Wicked Grace. How could she say no to that?
***
The next morning while at the infirmary she recounted her night spent in the company of Varric to Ilara who hung on her every word. They shared a few drinks, played a few hands of Wicked Grace and talked more about the Conclave. She learned that Varric was not a guest of the Divine, but a prisoner of the Seeker for his involvement in the Kirkwall. Apparently, The Divine was also looking to enlist the aid of The Champion as well. Varric told her about what happened in Kirkwall and how Hawke ultimately sided with the Templars against the mages. The rest of their evening was spent talking about camp gossip, to which it seemed Varric seemed to thrive on.
"I did tell him about you," Ilara's eyes went wide and a slow smile began to spread across her face, "and he promised he'd drop by to sign your books. He was touched that you thought his books were essential to your survival even as the Circle was falling around us." A girly squeal so high-pitched that it could've shattered glass pierced Evelyn's ears. Ilara began to run for their tent but stopped after a few steps, turned and planted a kiss on Evelyn's cheek before racing away to fetch her books.
"Knight-Enchanter," one of the Commander's runners stood before her somewhat out of breath, "the Commander requests your assistance at the northern gate right away." Though Evelyn loathed to admit it, she was loving being important. She contributed it to her noble upbringing of being the youngest of five with nothing to gain and nothing to lose. She made a mental note to write to her father and brothers now that she had been absolved to tell them she was alive and doing The Divine's work in Haven.
The soldier escorted her to the northern gate where across stood a small group of about ten mages. They were gaunt, pale and all but in rags. Her heart felt heavy at their looks of weariness and fear. They had clearly been through the Void and back. She wondered why they had yet to be allowed through, but the heavy Templar presence gave her a clue. Something was off. Not wanting to waste any more time before the poor sods froze, she hustled over to the Commander. Her presence did not go unnoticed by the mages, who watched on in great interest.
"Good, you're here. These mages have surrendered to us and wish to join the rest of the Circle mages who are here for the Conclave. But," he trailed off slightly running a hand through his golden waves, "they admit they were part of the group that attacked this gate a few days back and took us hostage. I would like your assessment of them." She looked at them as she spoke, taking in every detail.
"Clearly they aren't fighters, I see maybe two with staffs. I can sense their mana is low, so they won't put up much of a fight, if they intend trouble, but they would know it'd be suicide with the Templars here. Their bodies are clearly wasting away, contributing to the loss of mana. They look poorly cared for, so it seems if they were headed to Redcliffe to join with the free mages they never made it. Most are I'd say 25 years or older, so they probally aren't zealots. Most likely, they must not have had much of a choice but to follow those other mages who attacked us."
"That was our assessment as well. Shall we go out to meet them, since that is your new duty after all?" She nodded and she and the Commander strode out of the gate. The Commander greeted them kind enough, to which the mages introduced themselves as mages from Highever. They explained that when their Circle put the decision to join the Free Mages to a vote, and won out, they had little choice but to go along with them to Redcliffe. They were separated from the others from the Circle when they were set upon by a group of Templars. Desperate for supplies, they started raiding travelers and homes. Not knowing where exactly they were in the Hinterlands, the others attacked The Divine's scouts which led to the attack on Haven. With supplies low, their leader, the man with the scarred eye, was withholding their rations and giving them to the mages who could fight, leaving them behind during the attack.
"We have nothing, so we throw ourselves upon The Divine's mercy, your mercy." The man who spoke for the group sounded close to tears. Some of the others in the group huddled together for warmth, maybe comfort, tears in their eyes as well. Evelyn looked at Cullen, who to her surprise was as caught up in their story as she. The two stepped back for a moment to have a word.
"Ser, why aren't they already inside the gates?" He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
"How do we know they aren't planning on attacking us once inside the gate?"
"Do you really believe they are faking starvation and mana depletion just to get another crack at us?" He shook his head shrugging. "We can check for signs of blood magic - cuts on the arms and have the men check through their belongings - but I believe they are no threat."
"I want to believe that, but we lost dozens in that attack. I can't rightfully admit them without holding them in the cells for questioning. I'm sure Lady Cassandra would agree, for the safety of The Divine." She jolted back a step as if hit by lightning.
"With all due respect Commander, you can't! Haven't they been through enough? They aren't dangerous!" He was firm in his decision, as she argued to no avail wondering just how much sway she actually had in these matters. "How many days are you planning on locking them up?"
"A week."
"A week!? A day and I take full responsibility for them."
"This is not a negotiation, Trevelyan!" She huffed, but instead of anger, it was sorrow for what these mages had gone through that took over her features. Now the Commander sighed heavily, "Fine. Four days."
"Two." She quickly shot back. His face reddened in anger, and he pinched the bridge of his nose closing his eyes tight. To her shock and surprise, he hesitantly agreed and put the mages in her care. Even though she had somewhat gotten her way in favor of the mages, she felt a pang of guilt at having aggravated the Commander so much so that he took off for camp holding the side of his head as soon as their business concluded.
***
It had been two days since they took in the mages. Trevelyan had been in and out of his tent all day waiting for him to release them, but the truth was he had yet to question the mages. Leliana had gone off on official business and wasn't due back until week's end, so it fell to him to do it. It had been an incredibly painful few days of headaches, with Trevelyan contributing no small amount to them. He admired her dedication to her duty, but Maker's breath the woman was impatient verging on insufferable.
The sun was starting to get low in the sky casting long shadows throughout the camp. From his field tent, which he made into his daytime workspace, he could see straight out to the training ground. It was the most central spot he could think of, with the back to Haven walls and the gate to the village directly to the side. Thanks to Trevelyan, he was reminded just how central it was multiple times today. He could've sent people to question the mages earlier, but when she rudely interrupted his meeting with Quartermaster Threnn over the arrival of several merchants who wished to sell wares in camp, he purposely delayed sending someone. Every other time he could honestly say other matters took precedence. He knew she'd be back any minute now and he steeled himself to tell her they'd have to stay another night in the cells. When his tent flap flipped open he was relieved when it was Rylen's dirty mug that greeted him.
"What a day, what do say I buy you a drink and we find some women?"
"S-some what?
"Aye, women," he said in a deep voice, "you know curvy, soft beautiful creatures. Fond of two handsome soldiers such as ourselves." He and Rylen had two very different opinions when it came to casual relationships with women. Rylan had no qualms bedding a few different women at once, not caring if they too were seeing other men. Cullen could never be like that, his jealousy and possessiveness would get the better of him. He could never share a woman, his woman, with other men. His limited experience with women taught him as much about himself.
"N-no I don't think that'd be appropriate for…"
"Oh come now, Cullen there are more than a few women here eyeing you up and hopefully for me they have friends," Rylen said giving his friend a shove. "Or has someone here caught your eye?" He knew full well there were a number of women paying him extra attention, but none had tried to make any sort of connection with him beyond coquettish comments. They were only after one thing, and at risk of sounding like an old tired man, he wasn't interested in putting in the work just for a fling.
"I haven't had time to notice anyone!"
"Well let's go notice some then!" Rylen wasn't going to let it go. He thought that perhaps he could use some distraction and at least have a drink with his friend, but nothing more. Some drinks would dull the pain of his headache, but he'd be careful not to overindulge. He didn't like being drunk and he also had to keep his wits about him - he was the Commander after all. "How about the Seeker? She's as high-strung as you, I'm sure she could use a good -"
"No." He wasn't going to admit it out loud, but he found Cassandra a bit frightening.
"What about the new Lady Ambassador, now that is a woman I'd like to get to know better! Mmhm, that accent and I bet she smells amazing."
"I'm sure she does bathe more regularly than the women you're used to. But can we stay away from the ones I have to work with daily?" He wasn't seriously considering anything Rylen was saying, but he was serious that he'd never look at the three women he worked with romantically. If anything they were already too much like sisters to him, especially in their treatment of him. Leliana in particular. Always on his case about something, exploiting his easily ruffled nature. Before she left, she even mussed up his hair with her hand as if he were a pet Mabari saying, "Don't get into any trouble while I'm away."
"Fine, fine," Rylen's eyes glistened with mischief," what about The Phoenix? Seen her in and out of here all day, I'm sure you got a good look at her by now." He sighed, "I've tried with that one myself, but she's a force of nature. Probably for the best, wouldn't do to have a strapping lad like myself tied down to one woman. She's beautiful, is she not?"
"Sure, but…"
"…but she's not interested." He turned to see Trevelyan standing in the doorway of his tent, hands on her hips. Before he could offer up a defense she stopped him. "Please, Commander I've lived in close quarters with Templars for years, and besides that's not the worst thing I've heard." Even though she dismissed the comment easily enough, he still turned a shade of vivid red. "Anyway, I'm sure you know why I'm here. Again."
"Knight-Enchanter please, I have not yet had a chance to address their discharge. There are things that need to be done to ensure their safety…"
"Safety? They surrendered to you for safety and you locked them up! Since you seemly had no interest, I questioned them myself and everything checked out."
"You did what?!" A heated silence settled in the makeshift office. He bent over his desk bracing himself with his hands. "You questioned them? On behalf of who? Yourself, who was given no authority to do such?" Nobles, he thought, always thinking they know best. Not caring about anything but getting their way. Rylen wiped a hand down his face sharing a wide-eyed look with Trevelyan. "Well thanks to you, they will stay in there another night!" Worry and compassion creased her face, something he had yet to experience a lot of with her in their brief history.
"No, Commander, please!" She rushed forward to the table, "I have been on dozens of missions assisting with interrogations, I know what I'm doing. I would never endanger the camp, you have to know that!" He didn't expect her to plead with him over this, he expect more of that staunch noble haughtiness whining until she got her way. "Please don't punish them for my actions. They are good people, I'd stake my reputation on it." She continued to make a case for them, but he didn't hear it. He held her gaze as he thought of giving in again. Maker's breath why can't I say no to this woman? Days ago he had given in and lowered their holding time in the cells, which he contributed to a sudden headache, and now he was ready to throw her the key. She had an uncanny knack for getting her way and he wondered if it was her playing The Game against him, knowing just how to manipulate him. Yet, since their talk in the Chantry she hadn't seemed any different, nor gave him reason to be suspicious of her intentions. That didn't make him feel any better though, as that meant she just naturally disarmed him. It's just because I'm done with this and her constant interruptions, he thought.
Dropping his head with a huff, he unhitched his key to the cell and slid it across the desk to her. She quickly grabbed it seemingly not allowing him any second thoughts on the decision. She gave a large giddy grin and thanked him profusely, though it was unnecessary. Even if she'd been a pain in the arse all day he found something rewarding in her reaction. That troubled him.
"You are responsible for getting them settled in camp, understand? And if anything does happen, I hold you accountable. See to it that it doesn't come to that."
"Yes, ser," she looked years younger in her jovial state. She burst through the tent flaps only to stick her head in once more to add, "Oh, and enjoy your debauchery tonight, sers!" Cullen groaned and looked at Rylen who was holding back a chesty laugh.
"Maker's breath, let's go get that drink."