A/N: And here we have a flashback chapter seeing how Evelyn got to where she ended up in the last chapter crying her eyes out and holding Cullen's hand. I swear this will have a happy ending. I have no idea why I'm writing this, but I'm loving it and it's really bringing my enthusiasm for writing back. So if you're still reading thank you so much for reading!

Chapter 3: Lost

Evelyn Trevelyan left Skyhold with her staff, one pack, one horse and one arm. She'd already seen her friends off some time ago. As they all moved on from her she said her goodbyes and offered them a warm smile wishing them well with the Maker's many blessings in the world they helped rebuild together. Each one took with them a small part of her heart, but she would hold the memories of their friendship close. At the time, she thought it would be enough.

The former Inquisitor hadn't lied when she told the former Spymaster she intended on visiting her ancestral home. With so many new changes and so much hope sprouting up all around, she thought it might be time to make bright again what had been a dark corner of her past since the moment she was taken to the Circle.

So she made her way to Ostwick.

The journey was long but she crested the hill overlooking the Trevelyan estate on a sunny morning with an energetic flutter in her chest. The rolling green fields looked untouched by the years since she'd last seen them and the mansion in the distance stood proud and tall.

She bit her lip when she saw her brother, his boyish smile unmistakable. He was holding close a beautiful woman with hair the color of cornsilk and the two were watching a pair of chubby towheaded toddlers laugh and run and play. Evelyn remembered playing in those fields as a little girl herself, running in circles dreaming of the dashing Knight that she would marry and the babies they would have.

The Knights that came for her, however, were not what she had dreamed. The Knights that took her away had no castle to bring her to, only a place where the fancies of a little girl were changed into something different, because she was different and always would be.

Memories clashed in her head as she watched the people down below. The good and the bad. The short-lived and the never-ending. Her heartbeat quickened, her bright new world narrowed and as she stood there, longer and longer, she saw things as they really were.

The memory of her own carefree laughter mocked her, as this family she didn't know mocked her from afar with the happy moments she would never have, the husband she would never kiss, the babe she would never hold with the limb she no longer had.

She steeled herself and blinked away unwanted tears. She was stronger than this but after a long journey, it seemed...too much.

Without even a parting glance or a promise to herself she would return given more time, she set down her staff and left it there on the hillside. Then, she moved on.

She made her way to Kirkwall.

The city was comfortable with the friendly and casual air she had always appreciated in its new Viscount. Varric's touch was obvious everywhere. She wandered here and there finding things and places she remembered from his stories. The Hanged Man. The Blooming Rose. The Gallows. The rubble that was once the Chantry. On her way to the Viscount's keep, she passed the Amell estate. It stood pristine, well kept and well cared for by a friend who would always remember its owner who was now lost to the Fade.

Evelyn steeled herself and blinked away unwanted tears. She was stronger than this but Varric was surely busy, much too busy to see the woman who had sacrificed his best friend and it seemed...too much.

Her shoulders ached and everything suddenly felt heavy so she set down her pack and left it there on the steps of Hawke's home. Pulling up her hood, Evelyn hung her head and moved on.

She made her way to Orlais.

Val Royeaux was thriving, it's empress alive and well, the new Divine providing a humble and steadfast example of hard work and devotion. The city glimmered, glistened and rose up large and lovely all around. Too big and too beautiful perhaps for one weary traveller, her face hidden behind her worn hood and her damaged arm hidden behind her dusty cloak.

Evelyn led her horse through the streets lost in thought, lost in memories. Each doorway she passed was a decision she had made, each passerby a life that she had once been entrusted with. Good and bad. Right and wrong. When she reached the White Spire she pulled back her hood and looked up at its towering height. The crowd around her was thick and throngs of people brushed past her and her mount, jostling them to and fro. She felt trapped, closed in, hot and tired and the stairs to the Spire where Cassandra's confident aura and supportive friendship now lived were too many and too steep.

Evelyn steeled herself and blinked against dry eyes. She had once been stronger than this but Cassandra was far away now. A friend from another life and another time and it seemed...too much.

Her chest was tight and her skin crawled. She needed to be alone. So she left her horse at the steps of the White Spire and moved on.

Evelyn made her way to Ferelden.

Days had passed since she'd spoken and more than that since anyone had spoken to her. She skirted around towns, avoided villages and kept to herself. Yet for all the silence, the racket inside her head never ceased. Old pain she thought she'd forgotten resurfaced, times and places that she'd hoped to forget persisted. Desire and regret. Urgency and complacency. Envy, hunger, rage, despair. All these things in spades and more. More and more, louder, louder. Ferelden was vast. Her suffering was more so.

And her hand burned. The one that wasn't there. Sometimes, she thought she could still see it, the green light that had been forced on her, that she carried with her for so long. Always, she still felt it, crawling up her arm, creeping into her veins, growing, pulling, grasping for a foothold in her soul. When she slept, sometimes she woke with a start thinking she'd gone slack, grown weak and somehow let it consume her. So long she'd had to fight back. Push. Push. Push. Then she would realize it was gone and there was nothing left to fight, but in that moment of fear she was broken.

She didn't sleep. She walked all night, all day. She walked until she found him.

Cullen's farm was peaceful with rich soil and fertile fields. It was evening when she stopped and sat amidst the tall grasses at the edge of his property. The air was temperate and the breeze soothing but all she felt was cold wind cutting at her raw nerves. A dog barked in the distance near the cozy farmhouse. She peeked over the wild vegetation and saw his Mabari bounding happily, jumping and following after its master. She saw him, tall and broad, the sun-kissed curls of his hair loose and unkempt. He was smiling. An easy smile, settled, content. He threw a ball out to his pup and the two played like children with no thought to yesterday or tomorrow.

Evelyn felt old. She couldn't pry her own crazed thoughts away from yesterday and she couldn't see her way past the chaos to tomorrow. She ran her good hand through her hair, tangled and dirty as it was. Scratching at her scalp and rubbing her aching head she could abide it no longer. It was clumsy and it hurt. The dagger she kept in her boot was all she had as she held chunks of the detestable locks in her teeth biting to hold them taut while she ran the blade along the strands as close to the roots as she could manage. It took forever with one hand and not enough sense left in her to see the insanity of it.

When she was done, she was too weary to steel herself and she didn't even blink. Strength was a lie. Seeing him. Wanting him. Needing him. It was...too much.

She didn't want anyone. She didn't need anyone. So she left the shorn tresses of her hair in his field and moved on.