Secrets of a Mage, Seduction of a Templar


A/N: Okay. So. Here we go. This is a different Cullen x Trevelyan than I've been writing in my series of short stories (which I'm still writing for), so this is a stand-alone story that will be more involved. I've been wanting to commit to something longer for my new favorite couple and give myself something substantial to work on. As a warning, I like AUs, so this will have both canon and AU elements. It's fanfic for heaven's sake so I feel like anything goes as long as you're having fun. I prefer to weave known story elements into novel scenes to keep things interesting. I have some half-written chapters for this story already but not in order, so I'm going to have to write my way to them. I wish I was one of those writers who have everything written before they post but frankly, since I write for a fun-stress-relief hobby, it makes me happy to post things as I write them and then it also gives me motivation to keep writing since I refuse to leave things unfinished. Anyway, if you're still reading, Thanks! As always my goal is to write something I'd want to read myself, but it also makes my day if someone else enjoys it as well. This is only the second 'long' story I've ever tried to write (It took me ten months, but I did finish the first one!), so, fingers crossed! Thanks and wish me luck, RHR.


Chapter 1: Death and Denial

When she opened her eyes, all she could think was that they'd found her out.

They know. They know. They know!

She was chained to the floor and surrounded by grey stone and she could feel the cold of metal and rock in her bones. The steady drip of water somewhere echoed and it was a deafening cacophony in the otherwise silent cell. And her hand. Her hand burned.

She wasn't sure if it was the pain of the relentless burning that kept her silent during most of her interrogation or if it was the second nature of her years of forced and practiced silence. Either way, in those first few moments she was determined not to admit to anything even if they knew everything.

Deny, deny, deny.

She chanted in her head. She knew she hadn't used any magic. Evelyn Trevelyan never used any magic. Because Evelyn Trevelyan wasn't a mage. They couldn't make her admit to it, no matter what they did.

But when it became apparent that the two women didn't seem to know much of anything, her panic started to subside. It didn't have a chance to recede completely, however, because her actual situation soon became clear.

She had been with the Chantry representatives at the Conclave, all now dead save her. At first, she was accused.

"I don't think you realize just how unimportant I am, Seeker." She replied spitefully. "What possible motivation would I have to do such a thing? Not to mention, how in the Void do you think I could have accomplished the feat? I was with the lay sisters, I was a scribe for the clerics. My brother..."

The word caught in her throat and reality struck her hard. Her brother was dead. Her brother who had watched over her, protected her, taught her everything she knew, was dead. She managed to choke out the rest of her sentence.

"...My brother was a Templar. He was with us, he accompanied our group. He was loyal to the Chantry, as am I." She closed her eyes against tears. Not here. Not now. Stay strong. Mourn later. "We come from a good family." Her tone was more pleading than she would have liked. "I have no idea what happened, or what this is!" She held up her burning appendage and the sickening green light of it seemed to burn itself into the backs of her eyes as well.

She had said all she was going to say. After that, she spoke only when spoken to. At least her subsequent answers had started going over better. She came from a good family. She was loyal. She knew exactly what to say and how to say it. And she would do and say whatever she had to so long as they never found out.

She did as she was told and used the strange mark on her hand to help them as much as she could. It nearly killed her for a second time, apparently. Those first hours were a blur of fighting, pain and sorrow and then the world went black for her again. When next she woke, she was in a bed. She tried to sit up but thought better of it when her head spun and her stomach turned. She clenched her fist against the burning that was still there. So much for the hope that this was all a nightmare.

Someone stirred beside her and took her hand. She felt healing magic course through her. She glanced up to see the solemn-looking elf she had met in the valley.

"It still pains you?" He asked her with a lack of inflection.

She remained silent.

"Do you feel anything else from it?" He tried another question.

Still she remained silent.

"Does anyone else know what you are?"

She snatched her hand back and retreated away from him, pushing herself to the other side of the bed. "What?"

"Do they know you're a mage?"

Panic rose up inside her. What was she to do? Had he told them? Could she kill him? Could she run away? What would her brother have told her to do?

Deny, deny, deny.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said in a high-pitched voice that didn't sound like her own. "I come from a good family. I'm loyal to the Chantry. My brother was a Templar." And he taught me to say these things...

"Your secrets are your own." The elf, Solas, said calmly. "I've told no one, nor will I."

Don't acknowledge it, say nothing, she told herself. He continued. "The mark does not appear to have affected your magic at all. Should you wish to use it, your magic that is, you should be able to do so without consequence."

Without consequence? Without consequence?! The elf must be mad. But how could she have expected different from an apostate? Her whole life had been about consequences. Avoiding them. Hiding from them. Praying and learning and stifling and hoping against hope she would never have to face them.

"I...I'm no mage..." She stammered, spitting out the last word as if it was poison.

The elf's placid countenance grew stern. "I've said I will tell no one of your magic if you choose to continue to conceal it." He sounded disgusted with her now. "Though I've no idea how you managed to do so for this long. But it is in your best interests to be honest with me at least. I've said that the mark is not affecting you for now, but I have no idea if that might change in the future. Therefore, anything you can tell me about it, especially if you feel it affecting your magic, will help me to help you."

Help me to help you. Her brother had said that to her once a very long time ago. And he had helped her. He had been everything to her. He had given her a life when it so easily could have been taken away. He had protected her and their family. Now he was gone. And she had no idea what the future held for this life he had given her.

She was suddenly so tired and somehow, maintaining her silence seemed harder than moving a mountain. "Why would you not tell them?" She asked so softly, he might not have heard. Perhaps she didn't want him to hear.

"As I said, your secrets are your own. We all have things about ourselves we wish to protect; that aren't for the prying eyes of others." He seemed to grow distant at that statement, but said no more.

With a weary resignation, she spoke. "I was taught to hide my magic, so that I wouldn't be taken away to the Circle. My family..." The words formed and came out of their own accord. "My family is...influential in the Chantry. There would be no place for a mage. And what life can a mage have anyway? So I am not a mage." She said pointedly. Then she steeled herself and straightened in the bed. "I would have it remain as such." She stared at Solas unblinking.

"Though I do not understand, I will protect you as much as I am able from the truth you choose to deny. After all, it's clear you have a larger purpose here."

"It is all I ask." She said. "As to a larger purpose..." She rose from the bed. "If it is the Maker's will, I will help if I can."