Evelyn heard what must have been the thousandth knock at the door that day. It was probably Cullen, considering he had yet to stop by. Though it could have been any of the inner circle given their insistence to check on her at fifteen-minute intervals. Unable to discern if it was genuine concern, or if it had become a game, she ignored the knocks. She assumed it was a deliberate attempt to annoy her into letting someone in while they took bets on who would finally be permitted entry.
The rush of emotion had been a whirlwind as though she were trapped in a vortex of decisions and consequences someone else had made while she slept. It swirled in her mind and she could not differentiate fact from fiction. Her belief at Cullen's betrayal, the trauma of being abducted and manipulated into allowing herself to become tranquil, and nearly carrying out his execution was all too overwhelming; she needed a moment to piece it all together and make a clear picture.
As Cullen's voice filled the air, she lifted her head, peeking over her folded arms. He sounded hurt, worry lacing his words. "Evelyn. Open the door, please."
Though it was only a few yards, the distance between them might as well have been miles. Her voice escaped her, and tears ran down her cheeks in sporadic bursts. Burying her head back into her knees, she allowed them to fall. She despised crying and the illusion of weakness that accompanied it but found it her only outlet. There was nothing to say. How could she even begin to vocalize to him, or anyone, the unbearable weight she carried? They couldn't understand the guilt, the terror, the sheer hatred that coursed through her veins at what they had done, what she endured.
"Evie," he said, voice but a whisper. "I'll be here when you're prepared to discuss— I'd never—" Cullen stopped talking, cutting his words off mid-sentence before sighing. "Know I'm here. All right?"
Heavy footsteps followed his words, becoming more faint with each passing second. Half of her wanted to run after him, while the other kept her rooted in place, stifling sobs and trying to sort out her muddled emotions.
She groaned as another knock intruded on her thoughts. Why couldn't they simply let her be, allow her time to process? Dorian's voice rang, echoing within the room. "My dear, you either open this instant or I will blow this door off its hinges. If you force me to ruin my outfit with soot or debris, I will be rather displeased." A lengthy pause followed when she didn't respond, hoping he would leave.
For a moment, she thought he had left until he spoke again. "And you know what happens when a Tevinter mage is less than content." The playfulness in his words shrouded the warning with false comfort. He truly had the best intentions at heart, despite his pushy methods.
She jerked at the loud boom preceding Dorian's entrance. The sound of wood planks shifting followed as he stepped on the pieces and ascended the stairs. Dusting his robes of the small splinters caught on the fabric, he turned at the top. His face drooped; she must have been a sorry sight. To Evelyn's surprise, Leliana trailed him, arms behind her back.
Dorian enveloped her in a hug. Finding comfort in the body heat he radiated, she buried her face in his shoulder as tears fell. He shushed her gently and patted her head, whispering reassurances. "Cullen has been worried about you. A complete mess." Dorian rubbed soothing circles on her back. "All of us have been, but he asked me to speak with you."
"We determined the Commander's role in all of this," Leliana explained before she had the chance to ask.
Evelyn shook her head. "He could be —"
"He isn't," Leliana interjected, finishing the unspoken accusation. "There is no doubt to his innocence."
In her absence, she had forgotten how helpful the Spymaster's unnatural ability to seemingly mind read could be. She appreciated the talent now, and how convenient it was to have Leliana around since articulating coherent sentences currently escaped her.
"What?" Dorian gaped, pulling back from their embrace and meeting her eyes. "Ev, you can't possibly think..."
"She did think it. Thought he was a traitor, that he betrayed her. Still thinks so, in fact." Leliana interrupted. "I deciphered your message in its entirety —your encryption was quite clever— and began an investigation of my own. When I showed your letter to the inner circle, I intentionally left out that your use of his title named him as the perpetrator except to a select few." Nightingale's blue eyes locked with her own. "The Commander is no traitor." Gripping Evelyn's shoulder, the Spymaster provided a quick squeeze before returning both hands behind her back.
Dorian wiped away the tears on Evie's cheeks. "Leliana partnered with Bull and the Chargers, using their band of spies to keep things hush-hush. Naturally, she also requested my help. And, of course, because my skills are highly sought," he waved to himself as if the gesture proved his words, "Cullen had asked for assistance earlier as well."
Ignoring Dorian's self-praise, she redirected back to the important portion of the conversation. "You've evidence that clears the Commander's name, then?" Using his title was deliberate, after all she'd been through, she couldn't truly dare hope to make the situation any more personal. But a wave of relief washed over her, the first welcome feeling since she'd locked herself in her quarters.
Lips downturned, Leliana shook her head. "Unfortunately, there is no evidence."
She snapped, voice harsher than intended. "How do you prove a man's innocence with no evidence?" The situation was the same convoluted trap she'd found herself in from the beginning. There wasn't anything to confirm one way or the other, there hadn't been. It was foolish to believe that even the Spymaster could come up with proof.
"Inquisitor, information is valuable. Extracting it is an art. One which requires a particular," she paced, posture straight, exuding confidence, and paused, as if determining the correct word, "meticulousness and a careful eye for dishonesty. Between what I uncovered from the Lieutenant coupled with what my scouts told me, I am confident we discovered the truth. I'd wager on it." Pride sparkled in her eyes mixed with a flicker of sick pleasure. "The perpetrators didn't leave a paper trail. They were very thorough, which is why they almost succeeded."
Eyes narrowed, she gritted her teeth. "If he is innocent, then why did you not reveal this information before I nearly carried out his death sentence?"
"Because," Leliana explained, "you sentenced him for taking Samson's life, not the alleged treachery. They were two separate matters. Although, there was a plan in place for that."
Evie stared, half offended at the disobeyed order and simultaneously pleased Lel knew she would never have wanted to condemn Cullen on uncertainties. Unfortunately, the conflicting emotions only added to her dismay, compounding her confusion. "I don't know what's real or not anymore." She gasped, hugging Dorian tighter and rocked back and forth to self soothe. "They messed with my mind. The drugs, the travel, the visions…" It took a moment to realize she'd been speaking. Her voice trembled and broke, sounding foreign to her own ears. "Was any of it true? Did he ever love me?"
"Which is why Dorian is present. He can help you discern the truth. Were it all an act, the Commander would not have been able to convince me and everyone else. You will see, he is no traitor and is dedicated to our cause. And you."
Dorian cupped her cheeks with the palms of his hands, waiting for her nod of permission before using his magic. "Come, my dear." Despite her hesitation, she shook her head as the decor of her quarters vanished before her eyes.
Whereas the Fade was shrouded in green, this space was an iridescent white, as though they were two drawn characters on a blank canvas, standing in sheer nothingness.
"Where are we?" Evelyn asked, hesitant to take any steps forward in an unknown and otherwise empty area. She'd learned never to assume her safety —even with Dorian— and wondered briefly if the cautiousness was good or merely sad.
Dorian chuckled. "A space conjured from my mind. We are about to embark down memory lane. My memories, or the pertinent ones at any rate." He maneuvered his hands in small circles, a yellow aura illuminating them. With a wave, he cast an orb of magic into the air. It expanded, growing from the size of a child's ball to the size of a doorway large enough she could walk through.
Inhaling deeply, she trudged forward.
Evelyn sat in a chair, not recalling how she arrived in Skyhold's library. In the alcove Dorian had claimed as his own, soft candlelight lit the pages as her eyes focused on the book's text. Words in Tevine jumbled as she tried to discern their meaning with her limited linguistic skills. Glancing up from the page, she tilted her head to the side, brow furrowed as she rubbed her chin. Where had Dorian gone?
The area was quiet, only the occasional turn of a page heard amidst the silence and regular heavy footfalls, presumably Cullen's guards, passing through the rotunda below. The Commander paced with his arms behind his back in front of her.
Cullen's words were insistent. "It is an urgent matter, and I expect you to treat it as such," he said, his voice low but still ringing with the all too familiar inflection of command.
The oddity of the situation struck her. Cullen spoke to her directly although she couldn't recall this conversation. Then again, her mind had been a victim to several tricks. As she opened her mouth to question, Dorian's voice came out instead.
"It is neither urgent nor cause for concern." As if she had no control over her actions, her hand waved off his worry. "You need to relax. Find a hobby, Commander.
Of course, she reminded herself. This was one of Dorian's memories. Clearly, she was experiencing things as Dorian remembered them, making her nothing more than a spectator.
"These thoughts won't leave me. I cannot simply forget about the danger she puts herself in." Cullen halted, rubbing his forehead. "I fear for her safety every time she leaves!"
"You chronically fret, that is not news." She turned the page in the book, never lifting her gaze. "But she has me for battle support. If I may say so, she couldn't get any better."
"That fact aside," Cullen said dryly, "my worry worsens. My feelings interfere with my duties. To even see her, I-," He averted his eyes, and she caught the tinge of pink creeping into his cheeks. "She's more than a little distracting."
The book thudded, echoing within their little corner when she closed it with a flourish. Evelyn's full attention focused on Cullen. "Maker, you're in love with her, aren't you?"
Hand raised, Cullen massaged his neck. "I—Yes," he declared with a resigned sigh, allowing his hands to fall to his sides.
"And she doesn't know, does she?" Evelyn asked in a singsonging tone —though Dorian's voice still resounded instead of her own.
"No," Cullen muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not at all."
"So why not tell her? See how she feels about you." Setting the book on a nearby table, Evelyn stood, confident steps closing the distance. "There are only so many things that could go wrong."
Cullen chuckled as if Dorian asked an asinine question. "She's the Inquisitor. We're at war…" A frown plastered on his features and his voice dropped to a whisper. "It is inappropriate, I can't… "
"You can. It is possible if you let it be," she said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
The scene before her faded to black as Dorian shrunk it down to its original size, replacing the yellow orb with orange and sent it to his left.
"My dear, were it all an act, he wouldn't have been concerned about your positions or even entertained the idea of a relationship to begin with." Dorian gestured to the portal doorway. "Are you ready for the next?"
"Wait," she asked, "what are the various colors? The last one was yellow."
"They merely signify a different memory, so I ensure you aren't watching the same ones." A light push to her back prompted her forward.
Curious regarding what to expect, cautious steps led her closer as the magical orb swirled and expanded placing her in Dorian's role in another one of his memories.
Various blooms of Skyhold's flowers decorated the garden, giving the space much-needed color and displaying the warmer weather that arrived with the new season. The chess game was going well for Dorian. Though, it wouldn't last long. Knowing Cullen's technique, he had yet to implement his signature strategic plan to win the match.
"I'll not kiss and tell, Dorian." Cullen shook his head, moving his knight to capture Dorian's rook.
She tsked him. "In declaring that you won't, that statement both confirms the kiss and means you did, in fact, inadvertently tell."
"For someone of such sharp wit, your continual losses at chess are astounding," Cullen muttered. With a nervous chuckle, he averted his eyes and cleared his throat. "I need a favor."
"A favor you say." Dorian's brows raised. "Pray tell, what is it you ask of me?"
"The Inquisition will be attending the Winter Palace soon. I require instruction. To uh," Cullen's cheeks flushed, and he massaged his neck. "-dance." His gaze met hers. At seeing her amusement, he was quick to explain. "Templars never attended balls."
"I will gladly help whip you into shape for the event." She smirked and captured Cullen's bishop, taking advantage of the distraction the topic of conversation provided. With a laugh, she couldn't help but tease. "And you thought training the recruits was a challenge. I, however, plan to perform a miracle teaching the unteachable."
Cullen sighed. "Disregard, I should have known better than to ask." He rolled his eyes and moved his pawn forward.
"Very well, when your lady is swept across the dance floor in the arms of another man who put in the effort, I'll remind you of this moment." Acting as Dorian, Evelyn stroked her mustache. "And there will be other men who ask."
Cullen threw his hands up in mock surrender. "All right. All right. When do we start?"
"I knew you would make the right choice." He smiled before adding an edge to his voice. "We begin, immediately. No doubt, you will thank me later. Oh and Commander," with a wave he made a sweeping motion over the board, "checkmate!"
Evelyn returned to the empty white space. Her lips quirked in fondness, remembering her surprise at Cullen asking her to dance on the balcony. In truth, she'd been delighted, didn't even know he could. Never would she have guessed he had learned strictly for her benefit. Refusing to perform a frumpy Orlesian number or Ferelden's finest steps certainly would not have hindered their relationship. It was an attempt to do something nice, not a requirement to maintain a betrayal. No one would deliberately look like a fool —Cullen's words, not hers.
Then again, people in love did that sort of thing and if that was the objective: to prove he was a man in love, then he successfully tricked everyone. Clenching her fists at her sides, Dorian took her by the arm. So enveloped in her own thoughts, she didn't even see him prepare the next memory.
"There's more," Dorian explained.
A silent exchange passed between them as she met Dorian's brown eyes. She nodded, ready and almost eager to see the next. To gain clarity and absolute confidence in the truth would be a welcome gift. Evelyn moved forward, entering the next without a word.
Light streamed through Cullen's office windows bathing the normally shadowed space in sunlight. Cullen balanced himself against the desk supporting his weight against both hands, head down, staring, waiting for a response as he tapped a finger against the surface. An embellished box with elegant designs rested in the middle amidst the missives.
Evelyn, acting as Dorian, sat in the chair opposite him. In her hands, she held up a silver ring, admiring the gleam as the light reflected off the diamond and two rubies. "It's perfect. Fit for an incomparable woman," Dorian's voice commented. "When do you plan to ask?"
Cullen released a breath as his shoulders visibly relaxed. "Soon. After the war is over, most likely. I pray she accepts."
"For what it's worth," Evelyn said, setting the ring on the desk, "she would be a fool not to."
Just as he had before, Dorian minimized the memory, his magic aglow with a purple hue and replaced the previous orb with a newly conjured one. He turned towards Evelyn. "Were this preposterous fabrication of treachery true, he never would have shown me nor cared about what I thought. Did you see the relief at my approvalImagine how worried he would be for yours! Had he planned your demise, it wouldn't make any sense."
Evelyn said nothing and wrapped her arms around her midsection holding herself. She wanted so badly to believe, but she'd wanted that before. Even amidst everything so far seen, there was still a seed of doubt and it was enough to fester, lingering and canceling out sense.
His gaze narrowed, reading something amidst the silence. "You do not plan for the future if you do not plan on having a future!" A small sigh escaped him, and he dusted imaginary debris off his robes. "Very well, perhaps this shall convince you." Dorian pointed towards the new portal, motioning for Evie to follow."
Evelyn noticed the conspicuous empty chair before their standard chess game, where the ordinarily punctual Commander would have already prepared the board, ready to issue a lecture on Dorian's tardiness.
She stopped abruptly, a quick scan of the area revealed nothing but an open chapel door. Tentative steps led her from the gazebo to the place of prayer as she peered around the doorframe, hoping not to be seen. Cullen knelt on one knee. His folded hands pressed against his forehead, elbows resting on his thigh. Candles that had been freshly replaced the day before sputtered and flickered haphazardly, little more than stubs.
"Maker," Cullen breathed, voice breaking, "I beseech you, should you deem it necessary for her to…" Exhaling shakily, he dropped his head. "If you call her to your side, I-" He shuddered. "I ask that you take me as well." Cullen paused, wiping his face. "The world would be darker without her in it. Please, don't take the light from all you have created. Ensure her safe return, and I'll never ask for another thing again. You have my word."
As the scene transitioned back to the empty space Dorian conjured, a strangled noise escaped Evelyn's throat while her eyes watered, staring at a stilled image of the memory. "I-"
"That isn't even the most touching," Dorian said, maneuvering the magical orbs as he had before. After exchanging one for another, he ushered her back in. "Last one, my dear. I promise."
The Sahrnia chantry door flew open as Cullen stormed inside. Between the snow and the copious amounts of red lyrium, the area was instantly recognizable. She never wanted Cullen to venture here for his own safety. As Inquisitor, it was the only place she would have forbidden him to go regardless of duty.
Evelyn, as Dorian, watched from afar, hurrying to close the distance and check on Cullen's welfare. She arrived in time to see him grab a wooden plank —not yet cleared after the red templar's damage— and smashed it against the stone wall sending debris flying across the room. "You weren't supposed to take her!" Cullen roared, pacing the floor. Muffled sobs released in sequence.
Throwing up his hands, Cullen regarded the statue of Andraste with a mixture of disgust and rage. "I've been faithful, I've served," speaking with fervor, he gestured wildly. "I've done everything possible to maintain and honor you and the wishes you've set forth. For years, years! I have sought comfort in your words and my faith when life offered little. Still, after everything I endured in your name, Kinloch, Kirkwall, Haven, you would-" Cullen stopped, plate clinking against the stone wall and slid to the floor. "You took her from me." He clutched his chest, exhaling in spurts, tearing at his hair. "Maker, why ?"
Evelyn's shoulders slumped as she watched the Commander of the army built to topple them all, the embodiment of strength and unshakable faith, collapse under the weight of grief in utter defeat. Heartbreaking, it tore at her insides.
But the seed of doubt was still there despite it all. She wished she could eliminate the emotional turmoil, remove the weight that sat so heavily on her heart. Even after all of this, she couldn't shake the dread. How seemingly plausible the betrayal was, and how everything Cullen said and did since meeting her corroborated the possibility. It would be challenging enough to have him remain as acting Commander, though it would be wrong to take his position away on suspicion.
Which circled back to the strongest argument; there was no proof, either way.
The scene faded, and they were back in Evelyn's quarters. Everything was exactly as it had been, from the debris created by Dorian's forced entry to the crumpled handkerchiefs on the floor. The only difference was Leliana's conspicuous absence.
Dorian still rubbed circles on her back as she buried her face in his shoulder, his voice soothing. "It'll be all right."
She nodded. "I need to see him, Dorian." Evelyn rose, taking a moment to compose herself and used the reflection of the balcony window to check her appearance. After all, the Inquisitor could not look disheveled. She dried her eyes, wiping away the tears streaking her cheeks. "Thank you."
"Anytime, my dear. I'll leave you be." He spoke softly, reassuringly. "You know the truth now; I hope it's a comfort."
To placate him, she nodded, providing silent assurance.
After bowing with a flourish, Dorian kissed her forehead before leaving.
As Evelyn walked past her desk, sunlight seeped through the window, illuminating an unaddressed envelope with the Commander's wax seal. She tore it open hastily, withdrawing the parchment.
My Dearest Evelyn,
In the event that you consent to the reversal of the Rite, and provided it is successful, I ask that you heed these words. I do not blame you for the events that transpired, as I am well aware of the mitigating circumstances and apologize for any part I may have played which resulted in your transformation. I have no regrets for the death of Samson, nor my time spent with you. My faith has sustained me when life offered little, and it is that which allows me to go to the Maker for judgment.
All my love,
Cullen
Glancing at the date, she noticed it was the same as his scheduled execution. She read it again, letting each word sink into her heart. The resulting unrest became unsettling; clearly, this had been written pre-execution. With a sigh, she leaned forward against the desk, parchment still in hand. "I know what must be done."