A/N: This AU is an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for a while, I'm just finally sitting down and writing it. During a conversation with Dorian, he reveals that he and a human Inquisitor are distantly related. That got me thinking: What if they were closer on the family tree? The rest, as they say, is history.

This story is also a great opportunity to explore Tevinter culture and how things would be different in the story if the Inquisitor was a Vint. I also started to wonder how a non-mage in a powerful family would be treated in Tevinter. After all, they try to breed the strongest mages possible as they try to gain power and status. I'll stick pretty close to canon, but some things will be different for the sake of the story. I'm going to warn you know, things will get pretty dark, what with there being blood magic and all, but it won't be all gore.

Obviously, I own nothing. Please don't hesitate to review, I'd love to hear what you guys think, and suggestions or advice are always welcome.

She remembers what it was like, before. Before the disappointed looks from her parents, before the pitying glances of the slaves, before everything. She remembers her mother smiling when she brought her flowers, her father laughing when she wrapped her arms around his leg and held on tight as he walked. She remembers her big brother Michael scooping her up in his arms when he came home from studying at the Circle. She remembers Grandfather calling her "his little beauty" and giving her presents. She remembers being happy, feeling like she was the center of the world.

Then, it all began to change.

Adoring smiles slowly became worried glances, delighted laughs became words in hushed tones that would go silent when she entered a room. Mother began asking her things like "Could you freeze this for me, dear?" while holding out a cup of tea. Father would give her books about magic and tell her to see if she could cast one. Michael would show her every spell he'd learned, then tell her to try and do it. But she never could. As time passed, their efforts became more and more desperate as they tried everything they could think of, but still nothing happened. She tried to cast a spell. She wanted to, if it would make her family happy, but it was all for naught.

She remembers overhearing Mother and Father talking to Grandfather in the library, each of them sounding agitated and worried.

"Perhaps we could try to link her to the Fade ourselves?" Father says, sounding hopeful.

"No." Grandfather tells him, sounding grave "Not even blood is powerful enough to forge a connection to the Fade in someone who isn't born with it."

"So what do we do?" Mother asks quietly.

"There is nothing we can do." Grandfather says finally "She simply isn't a mage."

After that, they stop trying to make her use magic. In fact, they barely speak to her now, simply looking at her with sad, disappointed eyes. Mother barely looks at her, and when she does, it's with her lips turned downwards in a frown. Instead of hugging her close,Father idly pats her head as he walks past. Michael no longer shows her the spells he learns, no matter how much she begs him to. Grandfather she rarely sees, the old man retreating into his study with a grave expression. Even the slaves behave differently, shooting her pitying glances and whispering to themselves as they worked. Something has changed in her family, and she knows it is her fault.

It is clear that, whatever is wrong, everyone knows about it. When the family hosts parties, people barely glance in her direction as they brush past her, many with a disapproving huff as they passed. The cold rebuffs and feeling of silent disapproval are so stifling, she eventually stops going all together, disappearing into the library whenever her parents entertained guests. She felt like she was drowning, screaming for relief as she sank deeper and deeper into the void of her own misery. Years passed, and she withdrew further within herself, swamped by the bleak hopelessness of her family's disappointment.

Rowena Trevelyan was slowly dying, crying out for help with a voice that no one could hear.

But then, someone was there. Someone just as tortured and shattered as her. Someone who pulled her from the darkness and guided her into the light.

Dorian.

A/N: Thoughts? I have most of the story planned out, but I want your guys' opinions first. Tell. Me. What. You. Think. Advice, questions, comments, go ahead and lay 'em on me. I love hearing from you guys.