Disclaimer-I do not in anyway own Dragon Age, Bioware or their characters. I can't even really say I own Azalea Trevelyan.
Welcome to Darkest Skies. I should be updating this about once everyday or one every other day. This shall be the only thing filling my time until the newest game comes out.
Chapter 1- Beginnings
Azalea Trevelyan was not someone to be trifled with, that much was obvious upon first meeting. No one was really quite sure what to think of her. She'd been there for over two months now and it was certainly obvious that she knew how to get the job done. Cullen's first impression of the woman was one of severity. Sharp, narrowed eyes and pinned back hair, not a single strand out of place. The second impression, one seen at the first day at the war table, was a woman who did not know how to pay attention to conversation. As he, Josephine, and Leliana brought her up to date on everything going in both the world and Skyhold, Azalea had spent the entire time playing with a candle, weaving her fingers in and out of the flickering flame. It certainly did not help that she looked horribly bored during the conversation. Josephine and Leliana had both sent each other wary looks, wondering if this woman was truly to be their leader. When the three of them were done speaking, Trevelyan had quickly put his second assumption of her to shame, eyes narrowing as she sat back in her chair and started pointing to places on their map.
"Ser Cullen, you stated that there are 3 keeps within a hundred mile radius, yes?" Cullen stood straighter and nodded hesitantly before speaking.
"Yes Inquisitor. I believe it would be wise to start capturing them immediately. The order-" She cut him off with a firm 'no' and a raised hand in his direction, face not even glancing towards him, still focused on the map. He couldn't help but blink slightly in shock, closing his mouth with an audible click. He felt a bit affronted at the gesture but paused when she started speaking again.
"Leliana. I want some of your best agents to go to the closest keep. Find out anything and everything that could possibly be of use to me." Leliana gave her a slightly confused glance.
"And that would be?" Their new Inquisitor gave the red head a frustrated glance.
"Everything. Food supplies, Number of Soldiers, Skill of said soldiers, what kind of armor they have, do they have a skilled smith making their armor, and even patrols within the keep. All information you could possibly gather I want brought to me." The bard blinked before nodding her head and stalking off. The woman gave no further instruction to either Cullen or Josephine and waved them away with a flicker of her hand, attention once more back onto the war table.
For the last few months that's how things went. As the inquisition grew to power, more people joined and all of them grew amazed at the one woman who took charge and did what was necessary for the world to be put to right. As the meetings got larger, the world seemed only to throw itself into more chaos and if Cullen were any judge, it only made Trevelyan more determined to put things to right. For the last few months he only grew more curious about the woman and knew the rest of the group felt similar. Unlike most people, she didn't chat, didn't socialize. Azalea kept to herself and the only time anyone really saw her was in the war room, giving out orders or when she went out on missions with a group. He had, occasionally, seen her in the barracks, training in the arena, blades whipping around with deadly accuracy. Today however, was completely new and different. She was sitting across from him, head and shoulders hunched over a stack of papers and the only sound he could hear was the scratching of a quill. Cullen had no wish to disturb the woman and silently took a seat at his own desk, knowing he had more than enough paper work and reports to do himself. After several minutes he paused, head snapping up in shock. Trevelyan was sitting back in her seat, face soft as she hummed, quill glancing over the pages in front of her.
"Are you singing?" Cullen asked softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen. Aza snapped her head up, mouth parting in shock, her song falling short. She hadn't realized anyone else was in the war room. It was so strange to her, this new life she led. So different and yet, in so many ways similar to the life she'd led before. The feeling sometimes made her squirm in her seat, an odd tenseness in the pit of her stomach. Everyone was so oddly kind and yet respectful to her. It was beyond her experience, though Azalea tried her damnedest to fill the role that was given to her, even if she felt like she was lacking in so many ways. Glancing up at the man in front of her she smiled thinly and nodded.
"It's something I've always loved to do. Though, it's not my best gift." Cullen tilted his head curiously and Aza couldn't help but smile a bit wider.
"Would that be fighting then? Or tactics? You're very good at both." The conversation was a bit stilted, Cullen unsure of how to react. It was seeming as though his first impression of the woman was wrong as well, though that wouldn't really surprise him, he'd never really been all that well at reading people unless on the battle field. He could read bodily intentions, but emotions were beyond him. He took a glance at his papers and then back to Azalea, wondering if she would answer him.
"No. I may be good at them, but that isn't where my magic lies." Cullen startled, looking up at her in surprise.
"You're...a mage?" She laughed, full out then. It wasn't mocking, but soft and amused. Trevelyan shook her head and stared at him, a glitter in her eyes and a wry smile on her lips.
"Would a mage fight with blades, Ser Knight? I think not. I meant, everyone has a magic, something that makes them special...something that draws other people near. It's something you're born with. For example. Varric, the Dwarf. His magic is his voice. When he weaves his tales, you can't help but come and sit by, eager to hear another word from his lips. He's good at writing, there's no doubt about that, but his magic, his...charisma comes from his voice." As she explained, her eyes went far away, going over a memory in her mind. For once, the woman was in a socializing mood and Cullen wasn't one to waste an opportunity to learn more about the elusive person running the entire inquisition.
"So. Then what would your magic be? Better yet, since you seem to be an expert at figuring out other people's 'magic', what's mine?" Another smile was his reward and since they were talking, he followed her suit and put down his quill and reports, leaning back in his own chair to prop his boots up on his desk with a lazy flourish. Aza raised her eye brows at his casual manner but didn't comment, instead twisting to look out the window by her desk, a small frown darkening her face when she saw the grey clouds on the horizon. He almost opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but wisely decided that wasn't a good idea.
"My magic shall retain a secret. At least for now." She added the last sentence with a playful laugh, shifting in her seat to lean forward on her desk again. "As for your magic, I haven't figured it out yet. However, never fear. I shall figure it out yet." Cullen laughed, for perhaps, the first time in years. It certainly felt that way. The world was burning around them and there wasn't really a lot of time for laughing or being light. He wondered silently how he could have ever thought this woman to be cold. She was certainly severe when it came down to it, but it was obvious now that it was hardly who she truly was. Thunder boomed in the distance and a distressed look came over her face, gaze directly out the window and glued to the sky line. Within seconds the mask was back on and she stood up, shuffling her papers and putting them in a drawer on her desk.
"I do apologize Ser Cullen, but I must be going. It is late and I need my sleep. I shall see you on the 'morrow for the meeting." Walking around the her desk, she stiffly walked to the door and out of it, making Cullen wonder what in the world had happened. Dark eyes flicked to the window and a frown appeared on his face. He sighed and shook his head. The time for talking was over and he had work to do. His feet went back on the ground and he hunched over his desk, fingers grabbing and tightening on his quill as he dipped it into the ink.
Azalea sighed outside the door and leaned against it slightly, head tilted up to look up at the ceiling. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut and tried to calm the racing of her heart. Another sigh escaped her lips and she stood up straight, looking around to make sure no one had seen. She couldn't allow herself to show weakness and she almost had in the war room. The coming storm didn't bode well for her. It reminded her of too many things and none of them good. The itch down her spine grew, as it had been for a week and Aza hated, wondering why the Maker deigned to test her this way. She dropped her shoulders slightly and walked down the hallway, into the living wing of Skyhold, walking swiftly to her door, pausing outside of it and tilting her head. Her door was so dull and lifeless, a hunk of brown wood that said nothing. That would have to change. She hummed slightly in the back of her throat, maybe she'd be able to do that tomorrow. It would, after all, be a rainy day. No one seemed to realize just yet that Aza hated rainy days and refused to work on them. Perhaps she could turn it into a game of sorts. Azalea snorted in amusement before walking through her door, shucking off her armor and weapons before putting her night clothes. She looked at the walls around her and tilted her head at the chipping paint and ugly walls. That would have to change too. Maybe she turn he walls into a mural. A small frown appeared on her face as she sat down at the edge of her bed. Already the weight of the inquisition was taking its toll on her. For those who though it was easy, they were so sorely wrong. Every day was something new.
"You know...this wouldn't be so hard if you learned to lean on those you work with as they lean on you." The mark on her hand pulsed in tune with the voice. Aza closed her eyes and grit her teeth, trying her best to ignore it, just as she ignored the itch down her back and the fear the clogged her throat every time she saw those dark, foreboding clouds on the horizon. Even now she could feel the fear coming back at that voice. It was one of two that started to exist in her mind only days after she had gotten the mark. It had started slow at first, only a slight ringing in the back of her head, then came the muffled speaking, as though someone was trying to speak through water. The last two weeks, the voices were quite clear and often found themselves butting into her life. Azalea squeezed her eyes shut and prayed to the Maker that she wasn't going crazy. There was another tingling in the back of her head, a feeling of some sort that didn't entirely feel as though her own. She groaned and let her head fall into her open palms. This was just fantastic. Since she was already feeling crazy, Aza decided to finally address them.
"You know, if you even really exist, as well as I do, why I can't get close to anyone." The thunder rolled outside and she flinched, feeling a small tingle in the back of her head. A feeling not her own washed over her. Pity. Oh that was just fantastic, a creature inside her head pitied her. Before she could think any further the second voice popped up.
"I don't pity you. I feel compassion. I know what you have gone through, and going through similar things affords a certain understand to your...situation." This time she ignored it. She had a job to done, one that didn't include indulging herself with stupidity. If she was going crazy, so be it, but she wouldn't allow it cripple her or become her weakness. So far Aza was still able to keep the voices strictly within her head and had no problem differentiating between reality and what was going on in her mind. Therefore, she was still able to do her job. With a mental push, she shoved the two voices back where they belonged and lay down in bed, deciding that it was best to get some sleep. Cassandra had mentioned that they had something important to do tomorrow. While Azalea wasn't entirely sure she would actually do it, as she refused to leave Skyhold on rainy days, she at the very least listen to what the warrior would have to say.
Alright everyone! There's chapter One. Please Read and Review. Since this a bit before the release, you can expect this to not be the canon for Inquisition. I'll stick as close to the lore as possible, while still being original. Hope you enjoyed~!