It was the day before they were set to travel to Orlais. Evelyn had been with her mother and Ryker all morning discussing the betrothal and drawling up the contract. Her mother was overjoyed, ignoring her daughter's blatant indifferent behavior. It was not lost on Ryker who as she poured herself a drink, squeezed the pressure point on her hand making her grimace. He told her quietly that if he could act like he cared about the Inquisition, she had stop moping. He didn't need to rehash the threats, and he didn't realease her until she faked a smile.
"Did you ditch Rutherford as I asked yesterday?" He whispered sternly.
"I hadn't the chance, he was with the men all yesterday and I had duties as well," she lied. What she had done was avoid the talk all together. She couldn't muster the courage; her emotions were still raw from the other night's dinner. Cullen had looked for her but she knew his schedule and made herself scarce when he normally made time to see her.
He dug his blunt nails into the spot again painfully, "If you don't do it today, Maker help you, I'll drag you before him and we'll do it my way!" She felt a spritz of spit on her cheek from his anger. There was no way in the Void she wanted to find out what "his way" entailed.
"Do it, and you plan will be ruined before its even begun," she gritted out wrenching her hand from him. Her mother still toiled away over the wording of the contract on the opposite side of the room unaware of their private conversation. "Cullen and I were intimately involved," Ryker's face twisted into a red snarl, she knew mention of it would drive him mad, "do you think dragging me down there to say I'm in love with you won't raise his suspicion? Or worse, when he tells Sister Nightingale and she finds out the truth. She always does." He growled and for a second, she thought he was about to strike her. Feelings of helplessness from the past made her forget at times that she was no longer his prisoner. "Do you not realize I'm helping you?" He regarded her with suspicion as he mulled over her words. "The best way to go about this is if we do it as a business transaction rather than a passionate love affair."
The heat of his anger cooled, and for once he gazed at her as if she were human, not an abomination. He squared to face her, his eyes working their way back up to her eyes, "See isn't it nice when we work together?" She rolled her eyes as the tension in her body slowly relaxed.
When his future mother-in-law called him over for a signature, only then did she feel she could breathe again. As she downed her glass, then another, her mother, whose attention was now on her, chastised her for drinking so early in the morning. She mused in her head that in order to tolerate the two of them, she would have to double Skyhold's supply of liquor.
With the contract done, all that remained was for it to be delivered to the Ambassador for approval. She stood outside the doors of the War Room listening to the three voices make small talk. One voice she was especially tuned to, making her heart jump every time he spoke.
Knowing she could not delay any further, she pushed open the doors with the hope that between the wine and her new persona, she'd be able to do what needed to be done. She placed the parchment on the war table drawing the attention of the others to it, but immediately asked after the last-minute preparations. A finger tapped incessantly on it unable to keep her mind off it. The updates were few as everyone was busy packing and overseeing their people, so the conversation was quick to turn back to her and her anxious demeanor.
To the side of the room was a table with refreshments, and despite having two glasses of wine already, she felt one more was in order to ward her nerves away. Besides, they didn't know she had a head-start before the meeting. Strolling back to the war table, she ignored the looks which passed between her advisors. After two large gulps she was content to swirl the sweet red wine to give her anxiety an outlet. However, before she could broach the uncomfortable subject, attention was drawn to another matter.
"Inquisitor, about these changes you requested," the Ambassador looked pointedly at her and the moving cup, "an all-new serving staff and this extensive list of libations to be stocked in your quarters… may I ask--"
"No, you may not." She stared hard at her even while taking another sip to dissuade her from pressing the matter further. Never had she taken such a bitter tone with her advisors. Each shifted a bit taken back, as if she were a quillback looking at them as if they were its prey.
Leliana, unafraid with her steely gaze, poked the beast, "A new serving staff? Was there an incident I need to be aware of? Do I need to have these people investigated?"
"No. I would simply like a new staff." The Spymaster began to retort, but raising her voice she put a definitive end to it, "And we're done speaking of it! Just do it!"
An awkward silence fell upon the group as all present looked back and forth at the uncharacteristic outburst. Leliana had caught a scent of something amiss and she'd have to tread carefully. Now, not only would she have Ryker's spies to contend with but Leliana's as well.
"Apologies, Inquisitor." The Left Hand's eyes glistened, yet they were as unfeeling as hers, "We are all under a lot of stress, you most of all. I only meant it out of concern." She gave a curt nod in acceptance, but still said nothing more on it, instead drawing attention to the other matter.
Clearing her throat and squeezing her eyes shut shoving Evelyn far from her mind, the Inquisitor addressed the council, "Lady Montilyet," she slid the parchment that she had been fiddling with over to her, "I would like you to review this contract and let me know if there are any conflicting interests or issues that would prevent me--"
Hastily unfolding the document, Josephine couldn't help but blurt out, "From marriage to Lord Armand?!" Stunned glances landed heavily on the Inquisitor who had lowered her eyes to a nondescript point on the map. Her jaw tightened holding her composure against the three formidable people before her. "Forgive me, Inquisitor, for my reaction," she caught the Ambassador throwing glances to the others, particularly the Spymaster, thinking she wasn't wise to the exchange, "I will review the terms and give you my thoughts after we return from Orlais." Her voice was not as delicate or confident, shaking with uncertainly ever so slightly.
"Thank you. Dismissed." She turned to flee the room, not meeting Cullen's gaze though she felt it digging into her skin. Run, run, make up another excuse, just run--
"Inquisitor," his tone was stern, "a word please." The other ladies passed her and looked back over their shoulders briefly before continuing on. The muscles of her face tightened so pointily, one would have though she was in immense pain.
"Not now, Commander, I have business to attend to," she threw back at him over her shoulder.
"It's urgent, it's about one final matter related to the security detail assigned to you for the talks." He had her. She couldn't refuse him with the other two still listening as they stepped out of the door. Hanging her head for a moment, she took a deep breath before facing him, though she couldn't bring herself to look at him. The urge to run headlong into the wall and knock her out to avoid this conversation was incredibly strong.
Alone now, he finally spoke up, "Were you planning on telling me about this? Is this marriage business why you've avoided me? Maker, it's like we're back at Haven."
"So, this is personal and not about the security detail?" He gave her an annoyed glare and she shrugged, "I haven't been--"
"Spare me, the indignation of acting as if it wasn't purposely done." There was a bitterness to his words, and it was justifiably so. "Evelyn, we have shared everything with each other, why do you feel as if you can't talk to me now? Whatever is going on, let me help you. Judging by the way you went off on Leliana and Josephine just a moment ago, it has obviously affected you a great deal." At mention of the Spymaster, a cold chill seized her, remembering that she was supposedly always being watched and quickly walked to the window which he always opened before meetings for air, and shut it. Taking another glance around to make sure no one could be listening, she finally turned to him, her paranoia evident.
"Help is neither needed nor wanted. A delicate family situation of my making has come to my attention and this is the only way to fix it. Through marriage. My marriage." She felt as if she was trying to have this conversation while maintaining a sprint uphill. Her words were breathy and fast matching the pace of her heart.
"So, instead of speaking to me, you decided to just not say anything?" He stared at her hard, his nose and brow wrinkling slightly in anger.
Her voice failed her as a sudden tearless sob choked the words from her, "I don't know what to say."
He quickly rounded the table placing his hands on her shoulders. The warmth of his hands sent a wave of emotion through her defenses, empowering Evelyn to resurface. She fought the Inquisitor, wanting to break free of the prison from within her at feeling his touch. Letting Evelyn through would bring out the truth, and the truth would see Ilara killed and the only means to close the rifts destroyed. The Inquisitor couldn't allow this.
With a glimmer of hope still in his eyes not fully accepting the seriousness of the situation he babbled on about scenarios where in the end they could still be together. "If this is a matter that needs time, I can accept that as we work through it. Or--"
She pulled away rigidly from him as the words vomited from her mouth bluntly, "It's not. We can no longer see each other romantically. As friends yes, as colleagues yes, but that's it." Cullen face plunged into one of despair, as hers had two nights ago as she relived the emotions as she watched him. The echoes of Evelyn's screams of agony from inside reverberated through her very being. She fought her own magic as it tried to surge to protect her from an unknown enemy it could not sense nor understand. Even the Inquisitor paled as the crack in her cold heart broke further. When he brought his amber eyes back up to hers, he found no comfort in hers as it seemed her brown eyes had turn to stone. Where the fire there once sparked before, nothing but dull lifeless ashes remained.
"Do you even hear yourself?" He turned away raking a hand through his hair and down his face. "On the eve of the peace talks you had to do this?"
"The timing isn't ideal, I know, but--"
"Maker's breath, do you really not care?! I feel like I'm talking to a complete stranger! What's really going on?" He narrowed his glare on her, trying to peer though the mask, "You and Enchanter Ilara were incredibly tense two nights ago, I could feel your combined magics on alert. Is Lord Armand forcing you into this? Or is it your mother? You were always adamant on never listening to a word she said, and now she's here and this happens."
"I told you, I must do this for my family. He is well-connected and can help smooth over many of my past transgressions, as well as my family's current predicament," the lies that spilled forth made her nauseated, but she needed to end the conversation. Giving him too much information could prove dangerous in their deception. She looked down seemingly trying to convince herself even to believe them. "He's offering me, a mage, more than I could expect anywhere. He can even help with my magic if in the end…" she shook head redirecting her thoughts. "I'll have a home near my family, comfort and security."
At her words Cullen looked as if he had been stabbed in the back, having been so harshly dismissed as inadequate to her needs. His voice was weaker than she had ever heard it, "Do you not feel I could provide those things for you?"
Her eyes shot up in shock searching his frantically, "We-we never talked of such things!"
"That doesn't mean I never thought about them. As much as you weren't trying to rush things, neither was I! Besides, now would not be the time, not when Corypheus still lives." He raked his finger through his hair again completely at a loss to understand this sudden decision. A desperate rage was rising now, making his voice a bit hoarse, "I let you in, I shared the darkest parts of myself with you, and now, what? We just pretend it never happened?"
"Of course not!" An inkling of life broke through to plead with him, to soften the blow. Her hands reach out momentarily for his but she stopped herself short, instead placing them over her heart. "I would never betray the trust you placed in me."
He hung his head shaking it, "You already have." Walking slowly towards the door, he stopped and turned back to her. In his eyes was the faintest bit of fleeting affection, "I'm not sure what's changed, but you aren't the Evelyn I… never mind. If this is what you want, or need to do, I won't stand in your way."
He trudged off, his shoulders slumped and his steps heavy, leaving her heart pounding with a desperate urge to run after him. As the door shut behind Cullen, the room became filled with an eerie stillness that sent shivers down her spine. With a tight grip on the war table, she clung to it for dear life, as if it could anchor her emotions and prevent her from breaking down completely.
Despite her best efforts, however, the overwhelming emotions couldn't be contained any longer. A torrent of feelings surged through her, causing her body to tremble like a leaf caught in a storm. The world around her turned into a blur as hot tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.
Numbness spread through her limbs, rendering her legs unfeeling and unsteady. Despite the pain that must have accompanied her knees hitting the floor, she was oblivious to it as she sank down, not even registering the bruises forming. Clasping her tear-stained face with both hands, Evelyn let out anguished sobs that seemed to echo in the hollow silence of the room. Feeling utterly lost and vulnerable, she sought refuge under the protective shelter of the large wooden table, curling into a fetal position. The darkness and solitude beneath its massive form offered a semblance of comfort, like a cocoon shielding her from the harsh reality that now enveloped her.
Unsure of how long she wallowed in grief, the door creaked open as a small blonde figure slipped through it. "Oh, Evie!" Ilara ran to her, kneeling to caress her face and hair. Evelyn just laid there looking up at her through red watery eyes. The fact that she was acting like a victim, when it was everyone around her and the Inquisition itself who were the real victims was not lost on her. "You told him then?" She nodded against the cold stone. Having cried so hard, a river of tears pooled in the cracks between the bricks. "I'm so sorry-- Oh, sit up, I'm sensing a nose bleed coming soon." Evelyn slowly pushed herself up nearly hitting her head on the war table. A tingling of magic filled her nose making her sniff and twitch.
As she finished the spell, Ilara waited patiently as she noticed her friend had become lost in her thoughts, mumbling the word 'blood' softly. Her eyes watched carefully as the Inquisitor chewed her lip staring deeply at nothing and yet everything all at once. The healer recognized the look well, waiting for her to come to and tell her what revalation had just revealed itself to her.
When at last she turned looking into her crystal blue eyes, she found a woman waiting for hope. "I… think I have an idea." She blinked a few times trying to see through the strain of her sore eyes. "We'll need Henley and Sorin to make it work." The enchanter perked up, her hands looking as if she was praying to the Maker, "Ryker made duplicates of our phylacteries using blood magic because he didn't have more of our blood. What if we made one more set and had Henley hunt down the duplicates and destroy them."
Ilara searched the depths of her knowledge for anything related to the idea. "Won't it be difficult for him to track such a small amount?"
"True, but if Sorin amplified the blood's scent using his magic - as we had done before when the mages we hunted tried to obscure themselves from the Templars - Henley could sense them as if it was truly you or I."
"But that's blood magic!"
"Yeah, so is the magic Templars use themselves to track mages. The Chantry only cares about it's use when it doesn't benefit them. As Knight-Enchanters under oath, we were taught the spell only to be used if requested by Templars outside of the Circle. It's odd, but even now I'm having trouble rightly justifying using it, but Aeron is endangering more than just us if he does this. Since mages can connect to each other through their mana, when we use the spell, the blood calls out louder to one of its own kind." Her friend looked up as if a prayer had been answered, yet Evelyn's own face couldn't muster an ounce of relief. Even if they got their phylactaries and thwarted Ryker's marriage plans, the irreversible collateral damage had been done to her relationship with Cullen. He said it himself, she had betrayed his trust. Knowing him, she'd never gain that back. "Can you do me a favor? Check on Cullen. I don't care what bullshit excuse you need to make, just…"
"I will, I'll go right now and let you know."
"No. I don't want to know. I…," her voice became a high-pitched squeak as tearless sobs stuck in her throat. "I couldn't take it, but I trust you'll make sure he's alright." She understood his pain to an extent, though he would harbor more anger at it all. She hoped against hope that his rage would see him through the heartache.
***
Skyhold was a hive of activity as they gathered in the courtyard ready to depart for Orlais. The Inquisitor floated aimlessly about checking on her companions for the mission. An army of horses and carriages awaited her signal to move. It would take all day at a brisk pace, but they'd arrive in time for the start of the ball. It was lucky that the palace stood directly on the other side of the Frostbacks. Seeing Nelson staring at her bobbing his head, she went over to give him a pat to help calm both their nerves. There could be no distractions as this mission was life or death.
A hand slid up her shoulder half-hugging her from behind. She didn't have to look who it was as he reeked of lyrium. "You should not touch me in such a manner, nothing has been announced."
"Pff, lighten up. Are you going to be like this the whole way to the Winter Palace?" She didn't bless him with an answer and instead stubbornly hiked up her dress mounting Nelson side saddle.
"I will be however I wish to be. Now, my Lord, it's time you mount up, preferable somewhere I can't see you." The last part was said under her breath as she spurred her Ranger on towards the front of the caravan without another look back to him. He was exactly the sort of distraction that could cost the Empress her life. Without any binding commitment to him at this point, she felt a wave of relief, knowing that she wouldn't be obliged to stay by his side for the entire evening.
As they trotted towards the portcullis, the Ambassador called sternly after her, "Inquisitor! A word please." Reluctantly, she turned back tilting her head slightly to the side in annoyance. She knew exactly what she was about to get lectured about. "You cannot ride like that, you will ruin your dress and hair! You were assigned to ride in the carriage with your mother, Lord Armand and Madame Vivienne. Please." Her hand and eyes gestured over to the line of carriages.
Right as she was about to argue, an unexpected figure appeared below her, "I'll help you down, Inquisitor." Her eyes took in the handsome man in full military uniform offering her his hand. For a moment she felt her heart flutter, but the cold grip of the Inquisitor doused the desirous flame. She looked at the hand coolly before meeting his eyes. It was only then she realized they were sunken and devoid of life, not even seemingly focused on her. The rich amber hue was dulled, and even his golden hair looked flat. He looked completely detached from, not at all like the sharp-minded man she knew.
With a deep annoyed huff - not at him, so much as it was at the Ambassador's command - she accepted his help in sliding down off her horse. Her sweaty hands didn't allow much friction, and she easily slipped from his grasp once on the ground. With Josephine already seeing to another small crisis elsewhere, the two were as alone as they could be.
Standing at the height of his neck, she merely looked past him waiting for him to move from in front of her. "Tell me one thing," his voice was a low venomous rumble, "are you still committed to the cause?"
"How dare--," she cut herself off knowing he wasn't trying to fight with her. She had just become so defensive, constantly having to justify her actions to her new Templar handler. "The Inquisition will always come first, no matter what. I have not lost sight of our mission, nor will I regardless of… personal affairs." Evelyn didn't shy away looking up at him as she meant every word. He looked everywhere but at her.
His temper seemed to even as his hand pulled out a piece of parchment that had been tucked away in his uniform. Ripping it, he let the wind carry the pieces away. "That was my letter of resignation should you have answered otherwise." And with that he made his way to his own mount, not giving her another thought as his message had been clear.
As she gazed at his retreating back, her brows furrowed in deep contemplation, Cassandra approached quietly, concern evident in her eyes, and asked, "Inquisitor, is everything alright?" The weight of the loaded question pressed upon her, everything was far from alright. Cullen had been prepared to resign right then and there, a stark reminder of how far she had pushed him the day before. This man, who had achieved so much with the Inquisition's army, had been on the verge of resigning, all because of her.
The realization struck her like a hammer blow. Guilt gnawed at her, and she found it hard to lift her gaze, her eyes drifting to the ground. The words she had exchanged with him replayed in her mind like a haunting melody. She knew she had hurt him deeply, and the consequences weighed heavily on her heart. "Evelyn?" Cassandra's voice broke through her thoughts.
Remembering the Seeker still stood beside her, she absently handed her the reigns to Nelson, "Huh? Oh, you need a horse, here." She hurried away to the carriage as tears began to make her voice unsteady, not wanting Cassandra to notice.
"I do, but that's not--" The Seeker gave an annoyed grunt but didn't pursue her.
The brisk walk to the carriage helped to fight off the tears, as she threw herself inside with the others. Without looking as to how the three within had arranged themselves, she sat in the open space directly to the right of the door. Fixing her windswept hair back into place, she found Madame Vivienne on her right and Ryker across her. Her mother eyed her skeptically from the opposite corner while she tried to reign in her skirts.
The only other person who offered her assistance was the Senior Enchanter, "Thank you Vivienne. It's quite a job to fit three women with large dresses in here, I'm not sure what Ambassador Montilyet was thinking." Ryker seemed to have been contemplating the same sitting scrunched up with his arms crossed tightly wedged in the corner. He was attempting to hide his distain, but she knew better.
"She was thinking that I would be the best suited to make sure you arrive in pristine condition, and that is precisely what I intend to do, darling. Appearances are everything." She gave her a quick side glance while finishing tucking her dress so it wouldn't wrinkle, "I'm glad they at least laced you up tight enough to get rid of that horrid slouch of yours."
"Oh Evelyn, I raised you better than that!" Her mother looked quite embarrassed quickly glance back and forth between the two mages, though she was more interested in Vivienne's reaction. "Do try not to embarrass me in front of the Empress."
"Mother, I'm sure the Empress could care less about my posture. There are bigger things at stake tonight, like say the ending of the civil war." A sudden jolt had the carriage jostling out of the courtyard and over the bridge out of Skyhold.
"Though I'm not disagreeing entirely with your mother, dear, your presence beside the Grand Duke tonight will be a tantalizing piece of gossip as people assume the Inquisition has thrown their support behind him, regardless if it is true or not."
Ryker strightened, "Am I not escorting you, Lady Trevelyan?" This news appearently came to him as a surprise.
"That's Inquisitor, darling, and no you are not," Madame Vivienne chided. "The Inquisitor has an obligation to the Grand Duke, since it was he who invited her after hearing she so magnificently slayed a dragon." Ryker and Lady Bann Trevelyan both scoffed at that news, not believing it, but the enchanter's unamused stare and slow deliberate blinks convinced them otherwise. She suddenly became very relieved that Vivienne was present. "She must be addressed properly if she is to gain the approval of the court. They need to be reminded that she is Andraste's Herald, sent to save them from the evil magister who threatens their world." She turned now to the Herald herself, "We will convince them that you are the woman worth putting their coin behind."
"Well, if we save-- er, complete our mission tonight, I think that may also put us in a favorable light."
"Yes, but why stop there? The Orlesian Court has immense power and wealth, only a fool would not seize this opportunity. I'm sure all the eligible men will be lining up to fill your dance card." Her head gracefully swiveled, always with her chin up, to peer out the window.
"I hope the Inquisitor will save a dance for her betrothed?" Evelyn's eyes shot to his wide as a frightened fawn, as she shook her head rapidly before--
"Truly?" The Madame's icy gaze bore into her, and for once after many years she looked to her mother for help.
"It is, though Ambassador Montilyet is still reviewing the contract. We except to announce it following the peace talks." Lady Bann Trevelyan spoke clear and concisely, happy to talk about this arrangement in which she felt she had masterfully orchestrated. "It is a most advantageous match for the Trevelyans and Armands."
Vivienne eyed the pair before her as if she had just been told her dress style and color palette was out of season. Her steely eyes drifted over to Evelyn who wore an unreadable expression, then turned predatorially over to Ryker. "I must hear more about this most fortuitous match," she said flippantly, despite her threatening look, "do tell me how you were able to secure her hand when so many others had failed?" The veiled threat was not lost on the three passengers, though only one took it as a direct challenge to her honor - her mother. For the next hour the two waged a casual war of conversation back and forth to prove their superiority over the other. While she tuned them out, too distracted with her own internal pain, she eyed Ryker who seemed to be studying the two and their words. He was likely memorizing the debate in case he had to defend himself in a similar fashion later on.
Sometime later, the procession slowed to a halt for their one and only stop. It was in the middle of nowhere half way between Skyhold and Halamshiral. All but breaking the door off its hinges, Evelyn glided out as fast as her skirts would let her making a break for whatever happened to be on the other side of the tree line. The combination of ceaseless conversation, suffocating company, the perpetual thoughts about Cullen and the relentless jostling of the carriage had stirred a nauseating discomfort within her, threatening to spill over into a wave of nausea. She lifted as much of her silk skirt as was possible, listening to the calls of her men echoing out behind her. Keeping a brisk pace, she finally stopped when a small stream proved to be a larger obstacle than she was willing to tackle.
"Inquisitor, are you alright?" Cassandra had caught up to her. Having insisted upon pants for herself, it was an easy pursuit. Evelyn tapped her foot feeling ready to burst. She looked at the Seeker who was looking at her as if she was one of Leliana's escaped nugs, ready to stop it from darting away again. Having throughly worked herself up, she gagged then turned and vomited. Her friend sprang into action pulling hair and skirts away from the trajectory of putrid bile. After relieving herself of the contents of her stomach, the Seeker guided her away from the mess to a nearby rock. "I think I've seen and heard quite enough to understand what's going on…" though still green, Evelyn looked at her incredulously wondering what she thought she knew, "while I would be the first to want to congratulate you, is now really the time to have a child?" Evelyn's jaw dropped, gaping while sucking in air through her mouth. "What were the two of you thinking?!"
"I'm definitely not pregnant, Cassandra," she said with a gurgled heave. "It's stress." She considered her next words not knowing if it was wise to share it with her friend, but she couldn't help it. Concealing her pain was becoming tiresome. "Besides, I ended things with Cullen yesterday."
Her face softened to concern and so too did her voice, "You did? But I thought..." She simply shook her head as she wiped her mouth. Slumped against the rock as much as her corset would let her, she stared off as Cassandra seemed to be at a loss of words. "I… thought he just wasn't feeling well." Evelyn swayed sickly at her words. When the men called after them, clearly concerned about the Inquisitor, Cassandra was quick to respond knowing she was not capable of it. "We need to head back, this was only meant to be a short break. I will help you."
"No, I'm fine. This stays between us, no need to worry anyone."
"Fine, but you and I need to have a talk after the mission. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yes, let's just stay focused. We can't afford any distractions."
In agreement, the two walked back to the caravan where they were met with a mixture of looks ranging from worry to curiosity. Both women however bore it well wearing expressions that made the onlookers busy themselves quickly. Ryker was waiting outside their carriage, eyeing her suspiciously, but her façade held firm and even he balked at her icy stare. Without a word they mounted up and the procession gradually sped to a swift pace for the final leg of their journey.