I don't own Dragon Age.
Evelyn readjusted her grip on the large wicker basket. It was market day, and Mia had enlisted Rosalie, Beatrix, and herself to shop for the inn and the family. After leaving the house, Rosalie promptly ran off to the wheat fields.
"That's where Mama says all the no good, rotten teenagers go." Beatrix warned Evelyn. The hood of her blue cape was a bit too big and made Beatrix's large eyes look comically sinister on her face. Evelyn gave her a hesitant smile and Beatrix placed a light hand around Evelyn's wrist. Together, they walked to the market.
Lining the main street, each farmer and vendor had set up a little stand along either side of the road and were shouting back and forth between them. You'd think for a village that was only home to 75 people, no crowd would ever be large enough to constitute a 'mob', but the proud folk of Eldham would prove you wrong. Evelyn had rarely seen so many grizzled old women leering over preserved vegetables. She held the basket tighter and wished she could hold Beatrix's hand.
Under Beatrix's guidance, the two of them meandered through the pulsing crowd to one of the vegetable vendors.
"Hey there, little Bee." The old man said. He had an impressive arrangement of preserved beets, turnips, and lettuce before him, all in neat little glass jars. The man himself had prominent age spots that made him look like a speckled egg. "I've got your Ma's order right here." He proceeded to pull out a long procession of jars containing vegetables long since turned brown in oil, vinegar, and other preservatives. Beatrix put each jar into the basket carefully. Evelyn felt the weight pull and her hand, the handles digging into the meat of her fist.
"And you're the Inquisitor?" The old man said, peering at her from beneath his furry eyebrows.
"I was." Evelyn nodded, smiling gently. The old man screwed up his face and nodded.
"One of my nephews is one of your scouts. A good boy. I'm glad he's doing some good for the world." The old man held out his hand and Beatrix put five silver coins into his wrinkled palm.
"Good day, Hamish." Beatrix chirped, and led Evelyn along. Each vendor gazed at her similarly: part suspicion, part awe, part boredom. The butcher hardly even gazed at her, just grunted and handed them salted beef wrapped in brown paper. Evelyn wanted to stay, to talk and discover, but Beatrix was oddly focused for a little girl and offered very little time for chit chat. She would, however, offer strange insights like, "Master Derrick has a bad plow. Father has to fix it every year," or, "Mistress Rudhale likes to knit, but Aunt Helena says her work is embarrassingly bad." Beatrix was nothing if not clever and Evelyn smiled at it.
Under the hubbub of the market, Evelyn made out a lute and a singing voice. It was sweet and made her think of Skyhold. Did she miss the business of the stronghold, the plans and the people and the voices? Always going off somewhere, always doing something. Yes, she missed the doing. She had made Skyhold home and she desired to go home, to work again. But she knew what Eldham held for Cullen, and she would strive to make it her home as well.
The music was terribly beautiful. Evelyn suddenly stopped as Beatrix was examining some eggs that a prodigiously fat woman named Greta was trying to sell. She grabbed the girl's shoulder and ran through the crowd.
"Aunt- Aunt Evelyn!" Beatrix yelled, stumbling as she tried to stop Evie. "Where are you going?" The bag swung at Evelyn's side but she didn't care. She had to find the music.
Adjacent to a goat shepherd and his fenced-in wards, a tall young lady plucked at a lute and sang beautifully. A white haired young man sat next to her and pitifully shook a tambourine. In front of them, a ridiculously wide brimmed hat sat upturned, asking for coins. Evelyn shoved the basket into Beatrix's arms.
"Cole!" She shouted. The boy looked up and his blue eyes brightened and sparkled against the dark bags beneath them.
"You're here!" His child-like voice was so sweet, it made Evelyn's stomach hurt. He threw his tambourine down to the ground with a clang. Maryden looked up and smiled at the Inquisitor. Cole lept to his feet and raced over to her, hugging Evelyn tightly. He was all bone and happiness, but Evelyn returned the hug tightly. Cole had unsettled most everyone else in Skyhold, but Evelyn held a special place in her heart for the confused little boy.
"Cole, I'm so glad you and Maryden are here. How are your travels?"
"Very well, Lady Inquisitor." Maryden said, slipping her hand into Cole's. "Cole does much good for the people. And we always speak of your feats, my lady."
"Please, I-"
"Hello." Cole kneeled down to Beatrix's level and smiled. "My name is Cole. And you are Beatrix."
"How did you know that?" Beatrix asked, clutching the wicker basket close to her chest.
"Cole." Maryden said, encouraging.
"Yes- I am special," He said simply to Beatrix. "I can feel how people feel sometimes. You are Cullen's niece? I help people with Evelyn and Cullen."
Beatrix looked at the strange gangly boy up and down. After a moment, she asked, "Is that your hat?"
Cole smiled and grabbed the hat, scooped out the few coins they had earned, and placed it on his head. The sight of that ridiculously ugly hat almost brought tears to Evelyn's eyes. "Would you like to try it on?" Cole asked the girl.
"It's very large," Beatrix said. She then pushed back her hood and Cole placed the hat on her head. It comically fell down past her eyes and Evelyn laughed. Beatrix pushed back the brim of the hat and smiled widely.
"Where are you planning to stay?" Evelyn asked Maryden.
"We just arrived a few hours ago." Maryden said. "We were going to go to the local inn or tavern. Could you show the way?"
Evelyn looked down at Beatrix and smiled. "I think we could."
That night, the parlor of the inn was bustling and loud, like Evelyn had never seen before. Branson poured out drinks as fast as he could, and Helena was serving food at an alarming rate. Mia helped as she could, and Cullen did his best to carry the correct drinks to the correct table with Rosalie's assistance (which often ended badly. It was good fortune that her husband became a templar and not a waiter). It was deemed most practical that Evelyn watch the children. With Lief in her lap and Beatrix sitting on the table, swinging her legs with boredom, they watched Cole and Maryden entertain the village.
Most did not notice the minstrels. Instead, they eyed them, and Evelyn and Cullen, waiting. News that an Inquisition reunion was taking place had attracted even the most anti-social of the village. Evelyn almost felt bad that they would be disappointed throughout the evening. Cole seemed eager to talk, but once the words began to spill out of his mouth, people tended to shy away. Cullen and Evelyn were never ones for recounting past victories. Perhaps Maryden could tell a story or two. If only Varric, or Bull had come. That would've sated Eldham's taste for revelries.
Lief groaned and hugged himself to Evelyn's bosom. The noise frightened him no doubt. She rubbed his back and cooed at him, trying to soothe the boy.
"When will I get to hear a story?" Beatrix complained.
"Soon." Evelyn told her.
"But my bedtime is coming soon. They'll send me to sleep."
"I won't remind your mother if you won't." Evelyn shared a secret smile with the girl. They had come a long way from the first day, when Beatrix had hid from Evelyn in fear. Now, the girl's blue eyes were warm and happy when they saw her aunt.
"This. Is. Exhausting." Cullen came towards her a set a pint of ale by her. Beatrix reached for it, and Evelyn swatted the girl's hand away. "I can't imagine how Branson does this every day."
"It makes you appreciate him better."
Cullen nodded. "I believe Maryden is telling the story of Adamant Fortress after her song. I think we could probably…"
"Slip away so no one looks at us?" She supplied. "Agreed." They smiled at each other. Suddenly, a short, hooded figure approached them.
"Lady Trevelyan," It started.
"Can we help you find your parents, my child?" Cullen asked. The figure pulled back its hood and revealed itself to be Scout Harding. Cullen choked and tried to spit out an apology.
"Don't worry, Commander. It helps with going unnoticed." The dwarf smiled and Cullen relaxed. Harding looks well, her skin bright and her eyes sharp. Being groomed by Leliana as a spymaster had served her well.
"Harding, why are you here?" Evelyn asked.
"Leliana sent me to deliver some letters for you."
"Why didn't she send a raven?"
"She wanted to make sure they got to you." Harding's smile tightened and Evelyn took the sign as one for privacy. She handed Lief to Beatrix and guided Cullen and Harding upstairs as Maryden began telling the tale of how the Inquisition forces stopped the Warden blood mages. Evelyn was glad she didn't have to hear it.
In their quarters, Cullen pulled out a chair for Harding to sit. She did, and pulled out two bundles of letters bound in leather string.
"Maker's breath!" Cullen exclaimed. "How many letters are there?"
"Maybe about 8 each, give or take." Harding took a moment to rub her feet through her boots. "Do you have any water?"
Evelyn poured her a glass and brought it over. As Harding pulped the drink down, Evelyn asked, "How have things been with us gone?"
"Honestly- fine. Leliana and Cassandra and Josephine are handling the logistics much better than either of you could. No offense, of course." Cullen and Evelyn exchanged a glance and shrugged. She was right, of course. "But the letters aren't just from them. They're from all over. There's news from everyone."
"How long do you intend to stay?" Cullen asked.
"I'll leave tomorrow. Right now, I need a drink, a meal, and a nice bed. Goodnight, Lady Inquisitor. Lord Commander." She gave a small bow and left without flourish.
"I have to say- I don't miss people bowing to us." Cullen mused.
"I concur." Evelyn reached for the piles of letter and handed Cullen the one marked for him. "Shall we begin?"