"What are you thinking?"
They laid in the massive bed, three rooms deep in her guest suite, separate from the world beyond. Evelyn didn't open her eyes, the smile spreading across her face. "I'm thinking that I'm likely going to have to answer for my sudden exit from the ball. I'm thinking that Halden's constant asking if I was 'quite well' will lead to a rumor about my poor health. I'm thinking that I don't give a shit about any of that because I'm too happy. I'm also thinking we should do this more often, since I slept like it was my only duty." She opened her eyes to focus on his face. "Why, what are you thinking?"
"That you skipped breakfast and that they will likely send someone else to knock on the door soon."
"I was up late. I needed my sleep."
"I hope that is not an accusation. I suggested sleep many times."
"You're the reason I was so keyed up."
He adjusted the pillows to lie on his side more comfortably. "I was not the one who suggested we retire early."
"No, you're just the one who put that damned thing on me."
"You asked me to do something, how did you put it... scandalous and memorable?"
"I didn't expect an ancient Elvhen sex toy."
"One uses the tools one has at their disposal."
The evening had been largely what he expected. Nearly an hour of tedious formal introductions, presentations of gifts, overblown and pretentious displays of history and wealth that no one outside of the surname cared about. There was a dinner, one he found himself seated with the other rank and file of her guard. Only the advisors were seated with her, a slight that Sera seemed particularly put out by. Once or twice during the meal, Solas had caught Varric staring at him with a sort of sad sympathy that set his teeth on edge. It wasn't as if he had expected to be at her side the entire night, but was dismayed to find how profoundly this slight upset him. Perhaps Master Tethras was right. Perhaps he had begun to get ideas about his position in regards to their Inquisitor. Ideas that were being firmly shoved back under the rug once protocol and ceremony took back over.
Still, they had managed to briefly be together for tiny stolen moments. A surreptitious kiss in the darkened garden under the pretense of "getting some air." An interrupted conversation near the fountains. And, of course, the times the Uthanerala had caused a flush to rise to her cheeks. Their eyes would meet across the ballroom and they would share a secret smile. Only once did her host seem to notice, quickly moving to her side to escort her to another part of the room. Evelyn would straighten, draw her focus back to Vael's words, her hand fluttering at the nape of her neck, adjusting hair that had not come loose.
"Tell me."
Evelyn rolled onto her stomach, hair falling over one eye. "Tell you what?" she mumbled into the pillow."
"How it felt."
The red creeped onto her cheeks and she buried her face fully into the pillow for a moment before propping her chin on her hand. "Insistent, I suppose. I was very aware of it the entire time, and I think that somehow made me more aware of where you were in the room."
"That is the intent behind it. Intimacy in a crowd."
"Was that the intent? I thought it might be to get me out of there early."
"That was just an additional perk. I was not expecting you to want to leave so soon."
"I wasn't expecting it to feel like that when I sat down." She flushed again and half-screamed into the pillow. "I doubt I can wear that dress again. Plus, any time someone bumped into me I had to take a moment to... I guess compose myself is the polite way to say it."
"And the impolite way?"
"The impolite way would have been to just show you what it was doing in the nearest closet."
"I might have enjoyed that."
She dipped her gaze and grinned. "I think you're enjoying hearing about it now."
"I might be," he made to pull her closer.
The knock came then, loud and insistent, driving Evelyn from the bed with a groan. She slipped into her dressing gown and closed the double doors leading to the bedchamber behind her. Solas heard the muffled voices. If her ladyship was feeling better, her presence was urgently requested for a small meal during which particular terms must be discussed. There was also the matter of greeting the other guests...
"What other guests?" he heard her say.
The response was too low for him to make out. There was a quiet. "Give me a moment," then a dismissal of the offer of someone to help her dress.
It took her too long to come back to the bedroom. Solas rose quickly and began to reassemble his outfit from the night before. When she did finally re-open the doors, her face was pale and she was chewing her lower lip in a worried manner.
"Is everything alright?"
She gripped the collar of her dressing gown, looking at him sharply as if she'd forgotten he was in the room and was now surprised by his sudden appearance. She nodded, resuming the gnawing on her lip. "I have to get dressed."
"I assumed your absence at breakfast would cause some concern."
She fumbled through her trunks with shaking hands. "My father is here."
He paused his buttoning. "I take it this is a surprise?"
"He wasn't due for another two days."
His mouth dropped open. "You knew he was coming? Here? And you didn't tell me?"
"I was still figuring out how. I thought I would have things straightened with the roads and have at least opened negotiations as to troop reassignment so that I could present it all to him and then tell him... well, tell him everything. Now, instead..." she threw down a lacy undershirt angrily.
"Instead he surprised you and you've spent the morning with me."
"Something I will undoubtedly hear about." She pulled on a pair of socks. "Solas, if you could please just-" she gestured toward the door.
"Make myself scarce. Yes. I understand."
Her hand on his arm then. "Please, don't be angry. I will sort it all out."
The hall outside held three scullery maids, waiting for Mistress Trevelyan to vacate the room. His presence clearly didn't surprise them, a realization that made his ears feel unexpectedly hot. This uneasy feeling was not made better by the heavily armed men he passed on the stair, their chest plates bearing the Trevelyan crest. Was this a visit or a coup?
While Solas sat in his more modest accommodations, mulling over the various reasons why the Trevelyan Patriarch might have arrived so damnably early, Evelyn found herself escorted into the grand dining hall, where the lengthy table was occupied by only one figure: that of her father, Bann Martyn Trevelyan. The Bann did not look up when she was seated beside him, continuing to cut into the game bird that lay on his plate. Evelyn softly thanked the man who pushed her chair in and folded her hands in her lap. "You're early."
Her father savagely sliced the wing off the small bird, separating it completely from the roasted body. "From what I heard, I fear I'm already too late."
"I don't understand-"
"Don't play coy with me," her father pointed his fork at her, his eyes full of fury when they met hers. "I left as soon as I heard you'd packed him along like one of your party dresses. Bad enough you bring him to flaunt in front of the poor Vael boy, but from my understanding, you were seen practically rutting in the halls. "
"I was not," she lowered her voice, noting she was almost shouting. "What I do in the comfort of my quarters is no one's business but my own."
"When you're sneaking off to grope some elf servant in the garden in full view of your prospective's mother? When you're seen by more than one house guard with your legs all hitched around him in a hall? Is that still no one's business?"
Evelyn made to argue, then paused, face flaming at the memory. "I thought-"
"You thought you were alone. Andraste, Evelyn, do you know how often I've heard that excuse from Warren? I never thought," he sat back, shaking his head in a mix of disappointment and anger. "I never expected this behavior from you."
"It isn't what you think," she placed her hands flat on the table.
"It isn't?" he nodded, lips pursed. "So, it isn't that you're down nearly half your army? It isn't that the roads are clogged with bandits and highwaymen and you're having trouble getting bread, let alone armor, men? It isn't that the bloody Grey Wardens, a group of malcontents and criminals you decided to enlist, are now dying in droves on your failed missions? It isn't that the damned mages are uncontrolled, dangerous, in your employ? It isn't that you are up against an undead religious zealot leading an army of the damned with an archdemon under his command? Is that what it isn't? Or is the part about that boy the part I'm wrong about?"
"He isn't that boy."
"So that's the part you chose to refute. Warren was right, you are besotted with this unwashed hedgemage."
"You came early to tell me who I'm allowed to love."
"Stop being such a child, Evelyn." The Bann tossed his napkin on the table. "This isn't about love, or about your feelings. This is about duty, and honor. You have a nation relying on you to save them, even if they deny that's what you're about to do. How are you going to save them with your current resources? What are you willing to sacrifice to save them? Your pride? How many more will you let die for this elf?"
"You're asking me to make that choice. Now." Her voice was dull.
"I'm asking you to start behaving like a Trevelyan," he replied, uncharacteristically gentle. "Be the daughter I raised."
"I am the daughter you raised."
"The daughter I raised would think about everyone else before herself. I don't know who this person before me is. Now eat. I heard you were too ill for breakfast."
As she listened to the sound of his knife scrape the fine porcelain of his plate, she felt as if she'd never truly be hungry again.