As the Inquisitor, Evelyn had been a force of nature on the battlefield. She'd flitted from one opponent to the next, a dagger in each hand as she sliced through specific muscles and tendons to disarm her opponents, making them fodder for Bull's battleaxe. Her passion for poisonous plants meant she lovingly crafted each vial of toxin she brought into battle as either a coating for her blade or a smoke bomb to choke out Venatori and Red Templars. However, that was a tactic she used sparingly as both she and her allies also needed to breathe. Luckily she also crafted antidotes for her recipes and never brought poison into battle that was untested or without a cure.

She remembered throwing one of her twin daggers, not a throwing knife, into the eye of the High Dragon they'd discovered in Crestwood. It had been like something from a story, landing a finishing blow like that. She hadn't looked that heroic as she recalled. Though her hair remained in its tight braided bun, the electric attacks used by the dragon had made her head resemble that of a dandelion, especially when compared to Vivienne, Iron Bull, and Solas.

Ironically, being in the heat of battle had been one of the less stressful things for her during the Inquisition. She'd been raised to one day be married and manage a household so she'd known how to manage servants, balance a budget, assign tasks, plan parties, and many other skills but the pressure of running an organization trying to prevent the end of the world while almost everyone seemed to believe she was some holy prophet of the original holy prophet. Fighting was simpler. Kill them before they kill you and her time with the Inquisition made her one of the best fighters. Now?

"DAMN IT!" Evelyn shook her hand, glaring furiously at the rapier on the ground of the Trevelyan gardens. Living in the city meant that space was expensive. Though Bann Trevelyan had spent some of the increased family fortunes on buying a neighboring house and remodeling it to join the main house, it wasn't a fortress. It had no specified training yard. Instead, targets and an area for sparring had been made when the walls between the two back gardens were knocked down.

The training area in the garden was on the recently purchased side of the property. The older side was noticeably more lived in and even had a small greenhouse where Evelyn had grown her poisonous plants since she was a child. Of course, she could only grow a select few until she'd gotten older and proven herself responsible enough to handle such dangerous plants, but it had been her favorite place to be when she wanted to be alone.

Evelyn stood in a pair of her old boots, trousers, and a simple white shirt that had been modified to fit her amputated limb. Her sister was a few inches taller than her, noticeably more muscular, and wore her reddish brown hair in a high ponytail. Evelyn's handmaid stood off to the side, watching her lady with sympathetic eyes.

Nirasha was the first person Evelyn had seen after her first attempt to close the breach. The former Inquisitor could recall with perfect clarity, the young elven woman dropping the box she'd been carrying and immediately falling to her knees, begging for forgiveness. It had taken her a long time, especially because she was so often out in the field, but, Evelyn was eventually able to break through Nirasha's timidity and have an actual conversation with her.

Nirasha ended up serving the former Inquisitor indefinitely, of her own accord. Evelyn had offered the serving girl several opportunities for different positions and even asked her if she would've preferred to go to New Elvhenan.

"I'm free to make my own decisions, my lady. I decide to stay with you." Was all she had to say for Evelyn to drop the subject. After the events of Halamshiral and the dissolution of the Inquisition, it was nice to have someone physically stay at her side. While there were letters and the sending crystal she used to speak with Dorian, it just wasn't the same.

"You've been lasting longer," Rosalie said, sheathing her rapier.

"Thirty seconds isn't anything to celebrate," Evelyn growled. She went to look at both her hands and snarled again when she realized she'd unconsciously moved a hand that wasn't there anymore. "A year ago I could slice a man to ribbons in less than ten seconds. Now I can barely move through my forms, let alone last in a half-hearted spar with you." Evelyn resisted the urge to childishly kick the offending blade away from her.

"You lost an arm, no one expects you to bounce back so soon." Rosalie sighed at her youngest sister. As a former Templar, she was one of the few people in the Trevelyan household with martial arts skills that had been tested in a real battle. Their father was far too busy and the only other Templar in their immediate family, Henry, was still suffering from Lyrium withdrawals. Rosalie had an easier time getting clean, though she was not without struggles. She was the one to recommend Evelyn studying the rapier. It was a finesse weapon that required one to be light on their feet. It had seemed like a good fit for a one-armed rogue. Rosalie herself specialized in the standard sword and shield but she knew enough to get her sister started before they needed to call on an actual tutor.

But Evelyn was unimpressed with her progress.

"It's been a year!" She snapped, glaring into her sister's soft blue eyes. "I went from suspect of the Divine's murder to defeating Corypheus in that time!"

"You've only been practicing with this kind of weapon for a few months." Rosalie's expression of serenity never changed, even when Evelyn raised her voice. "You also lost your dominant hand. You've had to relearn how to do a lot of things."

"And give up on doing even more." Evelyn huffed, closing her eyes to fight back frustrated tears. She couldn't wield twin daggers, she couldn't pick locks, she couldn't do her hair by herself, she couldn't draw a bow, she couldn't even cut her damn food. She remembered how viciously embarrassed she'd been when she was forced to ask Nirasha for help like a child. From slaying would-be gods to being unable to enjoy a piece of chicken without assistance. All of her meals came pre-cut now. Being unable to even use a steak knife effectively had been a massive blow to her ego as a rogue

"You're being too hard on yourself," The former Templar gave her a comforting touch but Evelyn shoved Rosalie's hand off her shoulder.

"Don't patronize-" Evelyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry. I know you're only trying to help. I'm just frustrated, to know what I could do only to now..."

"I under... I can see why you feel that way." Rosalie said.

"I'd like to practice my knife throwing for a while. Could you please train with Nirasha?" Evelyn asked. One of the ways Evelyn had managed to bond with Nirasha was by teaching the younger woman daggers in the earliest days of Haven. She didn't want her handmaid to feel unsafe in her place of work. After four years of practice, Nirasha was quite good with a pair of blades though she had yet to set foot on a real battlefield. Evelyn hoped she'd never have to.

"Of course." Rosalie nodded and gestured for the elven woman to take Evelyn's place. The youngest Trevelyan daughter would occasionally observe the sparring to offer her tips and critiques but watching someone do what she loved when she could not was too much for her at the moment.

Evelyn grabbed a set of throwing knives before going over to the targets. She placed the wrapped set between her left arm and side for easier access. She didn't want to ask a servant to grab a table for her to lay them out on. Ever since she lost her left arm Evelyn had been struggling to find some sense of independence or even accomplishment. She had been left-handed so she had to relearn how to do everything; writing, dressing, bathing and so many other seemingly simple tasks. Any moment of independence she could have she clutched greedily to her chest.

Even if she'd never be able to fight the same way again, Evelyn refused to stop practicing with her daggers and throwing knives. She had to go through her dagger forms slowly and carefully so she could train herself to not try and move her left arm but the familiarity brought her a sense of comfort, even if the slow pace and frequent mistakes frustrated her to no end.

As Evelyn began methodically flicking her knives at the target she allowed her mind to wander. It had been a few days since Solas had visited her and gave his... 'proposal.' Knowing how long ravens took to relay messages, especially with the former Inquisition members scattered throughout Thedas, she had instead chosen to call Dorian on the crystal. If nothing came of the idea she didn't want her former friends and allies panicking and making rash decisions due to a lack of instantaneous messaging.

Evelyn dropped all the realizations onto Dorian the way Solas had done to her the day after he'd visited her.

(flashback)

"Solas visited me in the Fade yesterday."

"What?"

"He said he's not going to tear down the Veil."

"What!?"

"He asked me to marry him to cement peace between New Elvhenan and Orlais."

"WHAT!?"

There had been a lot of screaming in Tevene after that. Evelyn was glad that her door was closed. She sat on her bed, crystal in hand as she listened to her faraway friend rant on her behalf. The necromancer had seemed to latch onto Solas's proposal, unable to move on from that.

"Hasn't that man done enough to you? It's his fault you got the mark in the first place, his fault that Corypheus had the orb, his fault that your sister and all those other people died at the Conclave, he abandoned you TWICE AND HE CHOPPED OFF YOUR FUCKING ARM!" Dorian screamed. She was grateful that the crystal didn't show an image of the caller. She didn't want her friend to see her tears.

"I know what he's done." She said, her voice perfectly neutral. "Still, I just want all the fighting to stop. This is the best option for peace."

"It doesn't always have to be you." Dorian snapped. "You've already given more than enough for this world. You deserve a real marriage, love, a fucking fairytale ending. No one deserves that more than you."

"I've always known I most likely wouldn't get that kind of marriage," Evelyn said.

He scoffed. "Please, you wouldn't be the first noblewoman to refuse an arranged marriage. I did. We could start a club and-"

"I respect and wholly support your decision to refuse an arranged marriage," Evelyn said in a firm voice, cutting off Dorian's ramble. "Please respect my decision to acquiesce to one whenever the time comes." Her and Solas's possible engagement was only an idea at this point.

Dorian sighed. "What did you say to him?"

"I panicked," Evelyn said bluntly. "It was a lot to digest out of nowhere. I told him I would only consider if he had my father's blessing."

"Ha!" Evelyn could picture Dorian's grin. "There's an image, the fearsome Dread Wolf speaking to a lowly human to ask for his daughter's hand." There was a pause. "I didn't think he even liked humans in that way."

"He doesn't," Evelyn said, setting down the crystal to wipe her tears away. "This doesn't have anything to do with his opinion of me. It's all about preventing another Exalted March. Regardless of how you feel about Solas do you think him leading the elves to form a land of their own is a bad thing?"

"No." Dorian groaned, as though admitting Solas had done something decent was physically painful. "But I think everything he's done to you is horrid and in some ways, this may be one of the worst."

Evelyn couldn't help but sniffle at the mage's concern for her. Most of his anger was born out of affection for her and not just his dislike for Solas, which was again, born out of what he had done to his friend. Even though she was still feeling incredibly overwhelmed after last night, it did help her feel a little better.

"Oh, sweet thing," Dorian's coo made Evelyn choke back a sob. "Is your father aware of everything Solas has done?"

Evelyn shook her head before remembering that Dorian couldn't see her. "No... and I won't tell him."

"So he is completely unaware that he could end up marrying his youngest daughter to the man indirectly responsible for the death of one of his other daughters? Do you enjoy causing yourself emotional torment?" Dorian snapped.

"Dorian, stop!" Evelyn finally sobbed. "I already feel like a bad person! I know better than anyone what he's done to me! I-" She cut herself off and just focused on her breathing. She couldn't fall apart now. She had to keep it together. It was a mantra she'd been repeating since she woke up in that cell beneath the Haven chantry.

She had too many feelings about Solas. He'd been her best friend. Or at least she'd thought of him as her best friend. She'd tried to support him and be good to him. She always went to him for questions and stories. She enjoyed hearing about his dreams of different cultures and times from all over Thedas. She'd found his dry sense of humor amusing and most importantly he'd been the only one who didn't think she was in any way blessed by any god. That had been the most comforting thing in her entire time as Inquisitor.

She began to associate him with safety because of that. She went to him for comfort for her other fears as well. She'd practically clung to him when they were in the Deep Roads and she had even shyly asked him to give her a good dream after the events of Chateau d'Onterre. When she feared she was going to make a poor decision and everyone would hate her she went to him. He calmed her down when she felt overwhelmed by everything.

Now she felt all of those feelings and more, more than she'd ever felt and some part of her still instinctively yearned to seek him out so he could calm her worries with a few wise words in his soothing voice. Which of course were feelings that were at war with her anger and fear of him. Ironic, how she once went to the man for help when she was drowning inside her head. Now she felt like she was at the bottom of the ocean because of him.

"I'm sorry. It was unworthy of me to say that." He said, taking a shaky breath of his own. "So you told Solas to ask your father?"

"I told him to send a message. It'll take a few days to send one from New Elvhenan to the Free Marches." Evelyn laid down on her bed, curling up around the crystal. It was the middle of the afternoon and she already felt tired.

"Which I am assuming means that you haven't told any of the others?" Dorian asked softly.

"I don't want them to panic while waiting for messages with updates. Especially if this is as far as it goes." Evelyn said, bringing the crystal closer to her.

"I just felt that you'd... have some idea of how I feel with all of this. I can't tell my siblings about this or my parents, but you traveled with him too. He... was your friend too..."

"I know..." Dorian said, his voice sounding tight. "That's what makes all of this so much worse." That sat in silence for a few moments. "Do you want to talk about him?"

"I've already cried too much over this call," Evelyn said, not wanting to weep into a stone. "Besides... it may end up not going through."

"Are you hoping it will or that it won't?"

She was silent for a long time, trying to get her scrambled thoughts in order. "I... I don't know."

"Keep me updated? Also, do send your letters should your father decide to be willing to meet with Solas about this... proposal." She heard a familiar tone of humor return to his voice. "While I do enjoy having the title of your closest friend now that Solas lost the position, it would be quite cruel of you to have everyone else find out about this from wedding invitations."

Evelyn winced at the comment about Solas but tried to smile even though Dorian couldn't see it. "Of course. I'll talk to you soon. Goodbye, Dorian."

(end of flashback)

The former Inquisitor looked over the target as she approached; six throwing knives clustered into the center. The sight would've brought a proud smile to her face, once. Now she simply pulled the blades from the straw and put them back in the cloth wrapping. The blonde woman decided she'd call it a day. She'd barely broken a sweat during her spar with Rosalie and she only threw the set once and yet she didn't feel up to continuing her training.

"Nirasha, continue your training," Evelyn called out, causing the other two women to pause in their sparring. "I've decided to call it a day."

"Would you like me to draw a bath for you?" Nirasha asked, moving to sheath her daggers.

"No, thank you. I can ask someone else." Evelyn said, giving the elven woman a barely there, but still soft, smile. "Keep training. You're doing very well."

Nirasha's bright smile was a slight balm on her scarred heart. The sweet girl was a dear friend to her. Though they weren't friends in the sense that they'd been to war together like the others of the Inner Circle had been, they still had a strong friendship.

House Trevelyan was busier than it had ever been when Evelyn was a child. As her siblings were sent off (or in the case of her mage siblings Nathaniel and Harlow they were taken) to the Chantry, it felt like the house had gotten quieter and quieter. Now with the Bann's nine children back under one roof along with three spouses and eight grandchildren, the halls were never empty. The household staff had also increased as well. Many of them were human but a few elves had either stuck around or had been hired on. When the elven servants of Thedas began leaving en masse, it left many businesses and households scrambling for workers. As a result, the elves who remained behind were able to ask for more pay and benefits and the nobles and business owners had no choice but to give in.

Evelyn had asked one of the elven servants who worked as a cook in the kitchens why he didn't leave for New Elvhenan. He'd worked for her family since she was a teenager.

"If I went there I'd most likely end up doing exactly what I do now. It doesn't matter to me what shape my employer's ears are. I have a warm bed and I'm paid to do what I love. Besides," he had given Evelyn a small smirk. "It would be such a hassle to move across the continent."

The blonde woman was startled out of her thoughts when she heard her mother shouting angrily at her father. That wasn't anything new, they'd never loved each other and their marriage had only soured in recent years. However, hearing her father say "Lord Fen'harel" made her pause and quietly creep towards her father's study. She was still silent when she wanted to be, a technique perfected by sneaking around as a curious child and sneaking out as a rebellious teenager.

The lack of servants or siblings in the area made Evelyn believe that her father may have requested for everyone to leave him and his wife in peace for their discussion.

"I don't care what he calls himself!" Lady Cordelia snapped. "It's an insult for him to even ask to marry a noblewoman! Let alone the Herald of Andraste!"

Evelyn didn't know if her mother truly believed she was blessed by Andraste. She was a fervent believer and yet she was also her mother. Evelyn doubted she'd believe it if it had been her daughter. She hoped her mother didn't believe it. It was bad enough that other people thought she was touched by fate when she had always said she wasn't even before she had been proven right.

"It would be foolish to deny him the chance to make his case," Benjamin said, his deep voice cool and even. A sharp contrast to his wife's enraged shrieking. "He may not be recognized as a lord but thousands of elves follow him and he's conquered vast amounts of land from one of the largest countries in Thedas in a single year. His accomplishments are impressive enough to earn him a meeting."

"Mages are not allowed to marry! No chantry would sanctify the marriage!" Evelyn heard her mother slam a hand against her father's desk.

"You forget our daughter personally knows the Divine. She helped place her on the Sunburst throne." Evelyn tried hard to not preen at the pride in her father's voice. She'd chosen Leliana because she agreed with her ideas for Chantry reform, not to have the Nightingale in debt to her. Still, it seemed the little girl who wanted her father's approval was still in there. "Should I grant him my daughter's hand I'm sure the Divine herself will officiate the marriage."

"Such a union is an affront to the Chantry!" Evelyn rolled her eyes, not at all surprised by her mother's words. "You act as though you've already decided to wed our daughter to that... heathen upstart."

"I have not, but I am willing to consider it."

"Am I to have no say in the fate of any of our children?" Cordelia growled.

"You did have a say!" Evelyn flinched at her father's yell. He hardly ever raised his voice in anger. He always said it showed weakness and that you felt you were losing the argument. It was why Evelyn herself always tried to maintain a calm volume when debating.

"I allowed you to send five of our children to the Chantry. I'd even considered keeping Nathaniel and Harlow with us despite their magic but you convinced me otherwise. You said no apostate could teach them what they needed to know to be safe. You said allowing our children into the Chantry would grant us leverage in the Chantry and what happened?"

Benjamin Trevelyan didn't give his wife a chance to respond.

"Maxwell is dead, transformed into a monster. Harlow was made Tranquil even after she passed her Harrowing. Nathaniel hasn't said anything but I'm sure he suffered under the Templars. Rosalie and Henry were Lyrium addicts and Henry still suffers adverse effects from years of Lyrium use. Alice died at the Conclave. Out of the seven children I let you persuade me to give up to the Chantry, only one came out unscathed." Benjamin's voice was like ice, sending a shiver down Evelyn's spine.

She felt her heart clench and tears sting in her eyes. She remembered Rosalie and Henry coming home after their father had sent messages for all his children to return home. She remembered how badly Rosalie would shake during her withdrawals and Henry still had screaming nightmares along with bouts of paranoia.

The mere thought of Harlow made Evelyn's legs feel like they were going to give out. She and Maxwell had been only two years older than her. They'd been the siblings closest to her. Evelyn wept bitterly when they left but any time she saw her sister with that brand on her forehead made Evelyn want to scream. Her sweet, gentle sister had been made Tranquil by a Templar who didn't want to deal with her refusals anymore even after she passed her Harrowing. It was the twins' faces Evelyn saw, one corrupted with red Lyrium and the other with a Chantry brand, whenever she felt herself faltering while fighting red templars.

"Your decisions caused severe damage to half of our family," Benjamin said strongly. "So no, you will not have a say over what happens to them."

There was a moment of powerful silence. "Do you say this only because of your hatred for the Chantry?"

"You act as though it is undeserved," Benjamin growled.

"Not everyone in this family has abandoned the Maker." Cordelia snapped back. "Sophia has said time and again that she'd liked to return to her duties as a Chantry Cleric."

"I refuse to give those people another chance to destroy one of my children." The Bann said firmly. "Once Evelyn is married, I'll work on finding Sophia a suitable husband. If she's so devoted to the Maker she can pray at home."

"YOU-"

"Not another word!" Evelyn stepped away from the door. She could tell her mother would come storming out in a moment. "I have a letter to draft to Lord Fen'harel. We need to decide on a suitable time to discuss the possibility of this union."

Evelyn had already turned a corner by the time she heard the study doors slam open. She wasn't sure how Solas planned on going about gaining her father's approval, but the fact that the Chantry didn't approve of him may very well end up being a point in his favor. In any event, Evelyn had numerous letters of her own to write. Her father had agreed to meet with Solas. She figured her friends deserved a heads-up about that.