As one of the heirs to the Trevelyan family, Evelyn consistently had to be on her best behavior, period. That meant looking her best, too. Her long brown hair pulled back into a braid knot, face clear of any dirt, and she was only aloud to wear a dress (unfortunately these were the large frilly ones her mother would have shipped from Orlais). During her childhood she would remain silent in the room unless addressed, greeted people with a curtsy and bow of the head, and would always speak with a strange sense of maturity unlike her younger brother, Garrett. Her father was disappointed to have a daughter instead of a son and had quickly tried for a son after her birth. Her entire life, even while being proper and polite, her father would look at her with an aggravated look which she can still see clearly to this day.

The one thing that she remembered most as a young girl was watching from her bedroom tower, during her studies, at the soldiers that trained in the courtyard, Garrett among them even at his inexperienced age. These soldiers were being trained for both their forces and the Chantry for whatever they wished to do with them which was normally recruiting them for Templar Trevelyan family had strong ties with the Chantry that had been around for centuries and no ruler would dare break them. The eldest daughter dreamed of the day when she would rule; it didn't matter if it would be for the Trevelyan line or for some other noble family through marriage. One day she would watch over the soldiers with power instead a reserved sadness that had been beaten into her, but Evelyn was disowned when she was nine years old, after being sent to the Circle of Magi in Ostwick at the first signs of magical abilities.

The Circle allowed her to express herself much more than her noble family ever did. She did many strange things in this newfound individuality like getting a small tattoo of dots, barely visible, just on the outer skin of her cheek, under her eye, and shaving off the side of her head not purposely but many thought it suited her so she kept it that way ever since. Yes, the Circle allowed her to be who she was, a smart and powerful mage, but there was also many restrictions for being a mage. Although the enchanters taught Evelyn to come out of her shell, the Templars that stood watch during the days and nights managed to instill a permanent terror inside of her. She could feel the eyes on her back as she read a book in the library, practiced enchantments, and even while she slept, mind adrift in the fade. Of course, being one of the most excelling apprentices, she passed her harrowing at the ripe age of just fourteen, amazing both the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander. It only made staying in the Circle for the rest of her life a reality for Evelyn. There was no chance of having a family or getting married, well she could go join the Grey Wardens but what were the possibilities of them actually recruiting her? She had passed her harrowing nearly two years after the Grey Warden Daylen Amell, a mage himself, slayed the Archdemon. Grey Warden recruiters frequented the Circle, but she was always left alone.

A spring of freedom appeared when Circles around Thedas rebelled against the Chantry, seven years later. The mess that happened at the conclave somehow ended the mage up here, as the Inquisitor at Skyhold.

Currently, a certain Dwarf and Navarian were bickering about the Champion of Kirkwall which Varric didn't exactly tell the whole truth about. She had been informed moments earlier about a fight going in the eastern tower, wherever that was. To find the two, she just listened because it was loud. The two were in the second floor of a common area which had been vacated when the quarrel had started.

"Oh, sweet Maker." Evelyn muttered to herself, climbing the rickety stairs and pressing her palms into her eyes."Please tell me this is not going to be an ongoing thing?"

"You lied to me!" Cassandra yelled viciously across the room at Varric. "You coniving little shit!" She crossed the room with her powerful long legs and made a wicked, rash swing at the dwarf which he dodged with ease due to his height, A disadvantage or advantage in this situation.

Hmm, should I intervene or just stay out of it? Do I want to watch Varric die? Yeah, I better intervene. The mage slammed her hand on a table. "Enough!"

"What could have Hawke, a rebel mage herself, do to help? Do you know the target it would've painted on her back to appear at such a large-"

"But you know where she was! You son of a-" The seeker whipped her sword from it's holster in a flash. Before she could strike the Varric down a blast of energy shot in between the two, pushing them both back aways. The sudden force made them look up at their leader whose hand was raised from just casting the spell. She stepped between the two.

"I said enough!"

"He is the reason Justinia is dead!" Cassandra glared at the Inquisitor with angry tears in her eyes. The mage's heart broke for her, knowing how difficult it was for the Seeker to deal with the unexpected death of the Divine. The anger that consumed Cassandra was just grief coming back for a second turn.

"Dwelling on things in the past will not help us avenge her, Cassandra. You know that." The warrior's head fell down in shame, so the Inquisitor was there to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look up at her. "Serah Hawke will help us to bring Corypheus to justice. Leave Varric be."

Leisurely receding out of the room, back turned, the dwarf said over his shoulder, looking towards Cassandra apologetically. "Even if Hawke was there, she would be dead too, just like the rest of them."

Then the seeker burst into tears at the remembrance of the charred and mangled bodies that were found at the conclave. She pulled the Inquisitor towards her in a fierce hug. Unsurprised by this gesture, for the two had become increasingly close in the past months, the Inquisitor squeezed her strong shoulders, rubbing her back as the tears poured out from the depths inside her. Evelyn rubbed Cassandra's back, through her heavy armor. The outburst of wails had caused Varric to leave the attic in a haste, shuffling of stubby feet echoing down the stairs.

"I mourn the loss of Divine Justinia, too." There was not much else the mage could think of to say, for she did not know the Divine as personally as her friend had. Nor was she the right person to be comforting a Seeker of the Chantry with her being a mage. "Of course, you have your memories of her, the pleasant ones. Try to remember those for times like these."

A sniffling Navarian pulled away from the inquisitor, eyes puffy, nose red. The loud creaking stairs made Evelyn wipe the remaining tears off of the woman's face as if they were just sisters. The former Templar, now commander of the Inquisition's forces, raced into the room then two steps back seeing the women so close to each other.

"Um, I didn't, uh, mean to interrupt." Naturally, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck like he did in every uncomfortable situation. "I heard yelling and I-"

"There was a dispute but not to worry; it has been solved." Cassandra straightened herself up, repainted her usual stern look on her face, walked out of the attic and jogged down the stairs, brushing past the templar.

Frustrated at the situation, Evelyn plopped down in a dusty chair that remained in the unused room, resuming to the position of her palms pressing into her eyes. "It's all an enormous mess."

"It must be hard," Cullen murmured, strolling over to the inquisitor. She was beautiful, he thought, as his eyes roamed over her familiar features. The curviness of her figure made her Inquisitor robes cling to her body in such away that it shouldn't be allowed. Different, to say the least, Evelyn was not like other women the man had fancied before. Not to say that that was a bad thing. It was just that the few he had wooed, or attempted to, considered themselves as a cultivated people who were above everyone else. The woman before him was a mage, but what mattered more to him was the fact that she was a kind and considerate woman who knew the difference between right and wrong, justice and vengeance. The fact that she was a mage, shockingly, did not bother him in the least. At least, now that is.

The Inquisitor tilted her head at the man as he stared at her, obviously deep in thought. "What do you mean?"

"Leading this," Cullen walked towards one of the only windows in the small space, and motioned for her to follow which she did. A gauntleted hand pointed out to the courtyards down below. "All those people looking up to you. It's a lot of stress no doubt."

Evelyn nodded looking out at her companions who wandered their way about the fortress. "Someone has to do it."

"That does not mean you have to do it alone."