Wow, guys! Lol, didn't expect such a reaction from everyone, but I'm sure glad you did! I love the idea of the heroes of Thedas being one big family, but check this out. If you're a male Trevelyan, and you romance that charming Dorian, he reveals a little something. (Not that, you perverts! Lol.)
A Family Tradition
Chapter 2: I'm related to who?!
Three months after the loss of Haven
Skyhold was really taking shape as a defensible stronghold. The debris was nearly gone from the courtyard, the great hall was much cleaner (and a great deal more impressive), and several upgrades and additions had been made already. The gardens were beginning to show new growth, a mage tower was being built for the Mage Alliance's people, and a healers' training camp/courtyard was flourishing.
Dorian leaned back from his seat at the bar, the Herald's Rest, taking in the much improved morale of the people. Not only had the Inquisition survived Coypheus' attack, they had come back stronger and more influential than before! Not bad for a ragtag group of Chantry cast-offs. The tavern was warm with a roaring fire in the hearth, well lit and surprisingly clean. Dozens of people were gathered around the bard, listening to her sweet, low voice sing songs of heroes and now of their beloved Inquisitor.
The Tevinter mage grimaced before drinking down the wine he'd been served. It certainly wasn't the worst beverage he'd been served since leaving his home country, but it was definitely not up to his well-educated palate's standards. Oh well, one couldn't have everything, he supposed. A pleasant warmth of the alcohol spread through him, not enough to be drunk, but just lightly 'buzzed', as they say in the South. He glanced over at the loud singing coming from Bull's Chargers, the mercenaries laughing and boasting of their many battles. He thought they were an oddly decent sort, for what was basically being a thug for hire. Then again, Iron Bull was a shockingly decent Quinari, so maybe it just rubbed off on them?
A slight chill on the back of his neck made him turn around, to see Leliana with her hand outstretched to touch his shoulder. A chagrined look spread on her fair face as he chuckled. "Spotted you this time, lady raven," Dorian said with a smile.
"Truly, you must tell me how you do that," the former bard said with a rueful smirk. Her hood was pulled down for once, with the candlelight showing off the deep red highlights in her hair.
"My dear lady, a man must have a few secrets; it keeps the lads interested, you know," he winked, leaning back in his chair.
She laughed, a brighter sound than he'd heard her make in some time. "Indeed, and quite a few ladies too! You should still tell me though," she leaned in, her soft voice and smile hiding a hint of steel. "Its for the sake of my ravens." The woman suddenly smiled with genuine warmth. "Ah! But speaking of interesting things, I have heard of something of great interest to you. Would you care to join me in Sera's loft? I know that scamp has been dying to inform you of this ever since she found out."
Dorian blinked in surprise as he rose from his seat, tossing a few coins on the bar. "Sera? Blonde girl, untidy, looks like she's never heard of scissors before in her life? Hates mages?"
"Come now, my friend, she does not hate mages," Leliana smiled, ushering him toward the stairs. "I suspect she has run afoul of a few of the less pleasant kind in her lifetime. Or perhaps she's just uncomfortable around people that can make fire when they wiggle their fingers."
"It takes more than that to do magic!" Dorian protested. He smirked. "It takes at least half your arm."
Leliana chuckled softly as they rounded the corner to Sera's loft. They could hear the sounds of Varric and Sera talking, apparently arguing good-naturedly over a card game. Both rogues looked up as Leliana knocked on the open door, pulling off her gloves as she came further into the room. "Hello, friends. Care to deal us in?"
"I'm always up for a game," the mage said, carefully sitting down on one of the room's many pillows. One always had to be careful stepping or sitting anywhere in Sera's room, as there tended to be arrows scattered about in the oddest places. Blackwall still claimed that his rear would never be the same after his last visit...
"Just no funny finger business, right Sparky?" Sera said with a grin, settling down across from the mage as Varric dealt the cards. They passed two hands in easy chit-chat and gossip, especially about the romantic looks between their dear Inquisitor and Cullen. Dorian's patience was rewarded when Sera finally burst out, "Well piss, don't you wanna know what we all know that you know?"
Dorian cocked an eyebrow in confusion over his hand of cards. "Come again?"
Sera rolled her eyes. "About the movers and shakers, that we know what you know about what she knows! Daft twit."
Dorian sent a bewildered look to Varric and Leliana. "Is she speaking Common? Or do we need to find a translator for 'North Wherever'?"*
"You're related! To the big wiggies that make everything go topsy-turvy! Figured you'd be swanning about, crowing on your shiny family tree," Sera said in annoyance. "Stupid Vint."
Varric sighed in exasperation, dealing a new hand of cards. "Our esteemed colleague is trying to tell you that we just found out that you're distantly related to the Inquisitor."
"Oh, that? Old news, I'm afraid, and a very old relation," Dorian confirmed, discarding two cards. "Must be about seven, or maybe eight generations back for the Trevelyans."
"Hmm," Varric murmured, arranging his cards in his hand. "Don't suppose you were related to the Hawkes?"
Now that got Dorian's attention. "The Hawkes? From Emerius? Sorry, that's how they teach it to us in Tevinter, its Kirkwall, yes?"
"That's right," the dwarf nodded.
"Not that I'm aware of, no. Now my family does share some relations in Kirkwall, though my mother does not like to admit it. My maternal grandmother, she was related to the direct line of the Amells from the nobility of Kirkwall." Dorian said, a bit puzzled about what all this was leading to. From the look of surprise on Varric's face, this had to be something important. "So, we're talking about my family's illustrious relations because...?"
"The Trevelyans are third cousins to the Amells of Kirkwall," Leliana said smugly.
Sera snorted. "Yeah, and that ain't the only Amell they're related to, innit?"
The mage blinked, thinking on why that would be important, when it suddenly hit him. "Wait. As in, the lady Hero of Fereldan? Those Amells?!"
"Which makes you related to the Hero-Queen of Fereldan," Leliana grinned with mischief.
"And she's the second cousin of Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall," Varric said with a smile. "Her mother was Leandra Amell."
Dorian felt his jaw drop a bit as he understood. "They're related? All of them are related?!"
"To you too. Apparently. Sodding weird, it is," Sera grumbled, folding her hand of cards. "Like something said to someone, 'and they shall all be one big pain in the butt for everyone else'!"
Dorian was too busy thinking over what his new found relations meant to respond, but Varric and Leliana were exchanging looks. It couldn't be a coincidence. One family line producing so many powerful heroes? And, to Leliana's great interest, all of them female. Didn't the Chantry believe that the bloodline of Andraste could only be passed down through daughters? After all, that family line was lost to history's knowledge after the Second Blight. The Amells may very well be descendants of the line.
Perhaps the Maker really was looking out for them after all.
*North Wherever is a joke, since Sera doesn't like to talk about where she's from. She says 'north', and your character gets to make the joke that they're from 'North Wherever' too.
Also, the stuff about the bloodline of Andraste is real, taken from the Dragon Age Wiki.