A/N: This fic was inspired by:

- "a mouth full of white lies" & "Walking In Circles" by Milee_Cosgrove on AO3

This story is mostly un-beta and as English is my second language, mistakes are unavoidable so please point it out to me so if you notice something.

Revision date: 15/08/2018

The first chapter has been beta-ed by Ember Leo (Thank you so much for your great help!). It included new parts and scenes!

Chapter 1: Alone

Evelyn Trevelyan had always accepted her parents and their strange ways.

"Do not, under any circumstances, let anyone see your soulmark."

That was their first teaching as far as she could remember and follow. Her childhood in the castle their family called home were spent studying under the strict supervision of several governors, learning the proper etiquette that any noble child should have, and yet there was not even a single occasion where she could put her learning to use.

Her parents had a habit of locking her away in her room when someone came by, or throwing a thick blanket over her when they were in a carriage taking off to someplace. They were also sure to keep her arms covered up, even in the hot summer of the Free Marches, and were always particularly concerned with her left arm, making sure her wrist was kept from even her own view. Her elder siblings were also not allowed to look at her arms, and most of the time they couldn't even talk about the topic of soulmates.

Whenever she was able to get a peek of it, like when it was late at night and her parents' watchful eyes were no longer present, she always made sure to stare at the words, her fingers caressing every letter.

She still couldn't read her mark; the strange letters simply didn't look like any of the languages she had seen in her textbooks during her study hours. They weren't too big but would certainly catch the eye. She would trace the name every night, eyebrows furrowed, wondering just what it actually meant and thinking how strange it was to have your fate handpicked for you from birth. She wasn't all that bothered by it and was more frustrated with the constant hiding and lying. It was exhausting, and the fact that she didn't even know what the name meant felt like some weird kind of betrayal. She wasn't responsible for the name on her wrist, so why should she be punished?

Eventually, her persistence and curiosity won a small victory when an elven servant told her that her mark was written in the Elven language. He couldn't tell her what it said, though, as he was born in the city. Apparently, even among the Dalish, only the Keepers can read and write properly.

So, her soulmate was an elf, she concluded, somewhat excited that she finally knew something about them. At the same time, there was still a sense of distance unlike what she had expected—she had thought that by knowing just a little bit about her soulmate, it would feel less strange. Perhaps it was because she didn't actually know that person. Nevertheless, Evelyn wondered if this was the reason her parents were so keen on keeping it a secret from the world. Bann Trevelyan shouldn't have his reputation tainted by having one of his children destined to bond with an elf, after all. She set the thought aside and continued on with her life, a good daughter as always.

One day, a few months after her seventh birthday, the curtain in her room suddenly burst into flame when she was taking a particular hard scolding from her governess for making another mistake in her exercises. The look on her parents' faces when they ran inside the room was one she had never seen before.

Even as a little girl, Evelyn had gotten used to keeping certain things secret, so when she heard murmurs of The Circle and Mages she was immediately suspicious. She knew what secrets looked like.

It was a strange day when she was taken from her home, with her parents reminding her that she needed to keep her own secret covered up. They threw scarves and bits of material at her, reminding her to wrap up that wrist, and just keep her mouth shut unless she wanted to cause trouble.

Evelyn wasn't quite sure how to react when they brought her to the Ostwick Circle. She couldn't deny that the building was gorgeous—all tall and sharp edges, overlooking the water—and that the change of scenery excited her naïve child's mind. But this still all felt much too fast, and she certainly wasn't expecting to have others preparing to take her blood. When she asked why, they smirked at her, and ignored her question, leaving her to imagine the worst.

xxXxx

Evelyn sighed as she stared across the room. There they all sat, books in hand, excitedly pointing at pages and repeating phrases. They didn't include her. They never included her, and it was something she thought she would never get used to. Sometimes she felt like it was a mistake coming here to the public hall instead of just locking herself in her dorm room. She had one entirely to herself after all, with the other female mages refusing to stay even one night with her. Part of her wanted to go back to her parents, with all the hiding and the secrets, but such things were impossible now. She knew that all too well. Maybe she should have been more diligent and wrapped her wrist with the red fabric her mother gave her. Maybe she should have been more careful.

The young apprentices were excited at the prospect of having another child joining them, and at first, all was well. They would show her around, guiding her in the daily schedule, and in what was expected of them. She quickly got used to her new life, realizing that it wasn't that different from before, all hiding and obeying. The only difference was that she now had to do things on her own, but it was a change she welcomed.

The children of her age loved to show off their soulmarks, still too young to understand that even if they had one, the chances of them ever getting out of this place to find that person was slim to none. Nevermind that soulmarks were supposed to be a sacred secret, shown only to their chosen one. She would look on as they tried to spell and read the names, feeling envious that they, at least, could read their marks.

Sometimes, one of them would ask about hers, but she always tried to deflect their questions, or claim that her wrist was scarred and the mark was distorted because of it. She tried to avoid them more and more each time the question was asked, but eventually, the day came:

"Why do you always keep your wrist covered up?" a voice called.

Evelyn looked up from her book, staring up to meet the face of a young boy. He had dark hair and big eyes, his hair swept to the side, but not enough to hide his pointy ears. Evelyn recognized the young elf. She had seen him around, here and there. He was, apparently, a young Dalish mage who had wandered too far from his clan, only to be taken by the Templars. Her gaze drifted downwards, landing on her wrist and the red fabric that covered it up. She had listened to her parents' words.

"I have a scar." Evelyn shrugged, not feeling too concerned about the boy's question.

"So? I've seen elves here with worse than that. Seems like you're hiding something." The boy poked at Evelyn's wrist.

She was quick to pull it back, resting it against her chest. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asked, obnoxious grin and all, poking at her hand a few more times.

"Stop," Evelyn groaned, slapping at the boy's hand. "Stop that."

"Everyone says there's something wrong with your wrist. Tell me, tell me, tell me," the boy continued, and it was the final poke to the hand that pushed the young girl too far.

She stood up, the book falling to the ground with a soft thud, her eyes narrowed and dark. "Since you're so terribly curious, and don't know when to stop, I'll show you. So you can leave me alone, and run and tell all your friends that are so bothered," Evelyn muttered. She loosened the red fabric and shoved her wrist in the boy's face. Only Keepers could read Elvish so she should be safe showing her mark to a child, right? She naively assumed so, but what happened next sealed her fate.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped the moment her bared wrist came into view. He brought up a trembling finger, pointing at Evelyn. "Y-you're—how can that be?" The boy stepped back, overcome with fear, still pointing at the girl. "Stay away! Stay away! You belong to Fen'Harel! The Dread Wolf! How dare you come here?"

Evelyn saw heads turning. Everyone was staring at her, muttering to each other, wondering what was going on. She wanted to run away, to hide from their accusing gazes, but the boy stood on her seat, grabbing Evelyn's arm and holding it up for everyone to see.

"Look, everyone! Look at this! The Dread Wolf's soulmate stands right next to me! His name is right here on her skin, and she doesn't even care! See for yourself, if you don't believe me!" He yelled out for the whole room to hear.

Evelyn watched with wide eyes as dozens and dozens of elves and humans gathered around. They stared curiously, their murmurs filling her ears, and she watched as one dark-haired elf approached, staring at her wrist with narrowed eyes.

"Is it true?" he asked. "Are you really who he says you are?"

All Evelyn could do was nod numbly, not truly understanding what was happening, and yet wishing so badly that she could grab that red material and hide her wrist forever. When the older elf immediately ran, darting behind the crowd and whispering to his friends, Evelyn wanted to cry.

"It's true! It's true! Evelyn Trevelyan is the Dread Wolf's soulmate! She showed it to me herself! My Hahren had taught me to read the old tongue before so that mark's definitely the Trickster's name!" the young elven boy who started all this continued to shout out his discovery as he ran away from the room.

More gasps were heard, many elves in the room started to line up, pointing and crying out at the mark on Evelyn's wrist. The humans looked on with curiosity in their eyes that were quickly replaced with surprise and distrust once their elven friends finished whispering in their ears, mostly explaining what her mark meant. She bowed her head in shame, tears flooding her eyes, and her heart beginning to ache.

She should have just listened to her parents.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at the memory. That was a long time ago and she had been stupid to reveal such information. Whenever she walked the halls now, she saw how everyone averted their gaze, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact. They were terrified of her. Loneliness was something she was used to, but being feared… It was an interesting thing to experience.

She heard a few whispers nearby, and Evelyn looked up to see a group of elves pointing at her. A few of them gasped when Evelyn looked their way, and she rolled her eyes at their reaction. The humans and city elves were less severe in their reactions, as they didn't grow up with tales of Fen'Harel. Still, being caged in this Circle meant that rumors traveled fast, just a few Dalish mages were enough to let everyone know to avoid her, even when they didn't truly understand what it meant. This was a typical day for Evelyn. She was used to their anxious stares and sighs of relief when she left a room.

It almost didn't make her want to cry anymore. Almost.

xxXxx

Being constantly isolated meant you had to keep yourself occupied, so Evelyn took to the libraries, spending almost all her free time with her nose in a book. It quickly became fun, interesting facts filling up her mind, and she took extensive notes to review later on. While she liked to read about everything, Evelyn particularly enjoyed reading books about Elvhenan and the People as they called themselves.

She could still recall the despair that filled her heart the first time she read about Fen'Harel under the dim candlelight. Soulmate of an Elven god, the god of Lies and Betrayal! No wonder her parents tried their best to hide her and her soulmark away! She could almost imagine what ran through their minds when they first understood the meaning of her mark back when she was still a babe.

She had cried her eyes out that night, wishing for someone to be there, to tell her that it was alright, that even if her soulmate was Fen'Harel, it wasn't the end of the world. She could live with this.

And she did learn to live on with this burden. She learned to accept, and acceptance led her back to the desire to know more about her mate, and thus came years of spending her time in the libraries of the Ostwick Circle to learn about the Elvhen people. From their deep, long history back before the humans dominated Thedas, to how magic was once as natural to them as breathing, she learned as much as her resources allowed.

It was hard at first. Books about Elvhenan were usually written as propaganda by humans. Original elvish books were extremely rare, and she had no idea how to read them in the original language. Those she could read were, at the very least, badly-translated documents that gave conflicting accounts. Evelyn had spent countless nights and days comparing different translated versions of the same book to create a barely-functional dictionary and worked her way up from there. And that only happened if she was lucky enough to get such documents. More often than not, she had to write requests to the Enchanters for those things, and they always wanted something in return. Fortunately, her family wasn't lacking in gold, and her parents would do anything to make sure she remained obediently within the tower. Though, sometimes, Evelyn had to wonder how long they would continue to put up with her demands until they decided it was enough and cut her off.

When it was time for a class, she would sit in a corner and spend the whole time to just listening to the lecturer since no one had the guts to talk to her, let alone send notes or play pranks with her. The only times Evelyn had any proper conversations with anyone were the one-on-one lessons with a senior mage or a professor. Even then, with them always acting like Evelyn could turn into an abomination at any moment, she could hardly form any meaningful bonds. Instead, she had learned to perform her tasks for the session as fast and as well as she could to shorten the time, so her tutors could 'escape' from her sooner. After all, there was no point to keeping them around longer so they could hate her more than they already did, even if her speed caused others to gossip that she was only so "good" and "talented" because of Fen'Harel's "blessing".

When she wasn't studying, she still did her duty as an apprentice. Cleaning, making potions, gardening, kitchen duty, she did them all, and she was always alone. The only ones who dared approach to look at her straight in the eyes were the Tranquil, and most of the time she couldn't decide whether it was better. It scared her to look at those who had been cut off from their own selves simply for what they were, while their bodies became slaves to the Chantry, and know that it could be her one day if she wasn't careful enough.

Generally, the Templars didn't dare to touch her. Her reputation as 'the cursed bride of the god of betrayal', and her noble name were shields that protected her from most of the harassment. But it certainly wasn't an easy thing to witness such things happening to other mages, so as much as she resented the way they treated her over a name, she still set out to use those names to protect the others when she could. It didn't protect her from being isolated or feared, but that was fine with her. She wasn't looking for a reward when she helped them.

Sometimes, very rarely, some of the elves approached her when they knew that she was having trouble with her research, but more often, it was she who forcefully cornered them when she knew for sure they were Dalish. They still feared her, that she knew, but the ones who didn't flee at the sight of her had cooperated enough to answer her questions. They couldn't help her with the text itself, but knowing how to pronounce certain words or phrases, to compare them with Common books, was certainly valuable enough in her quest for learning. Some of them even prayed when she left and she wondered if they thought being "nice" to her was their way of appeasing the Dread Wolf, hoping it would protect them from his wrath.

Evelyn's demands to her parents still continued throughout the years—gold, texts, relics, even research from other towers and Orlais' universities, they never stopped. But despite her anticipation that, one day, perhaps an "accident" from the Templars at the request of Bann Trevelyan would stop her blackmailing for good, nothing ever happened to her. Maybe her parents were just that afraid of the sin of killing their own child, even if said child was a mage who had clearly taken an interest in dangerous topics.

Eventually, she reached a stage where she could actually read the original Elven text. From that point on, it was a different kind of hardship.

The books she read revealed to her the suffering and loss that the Elven people had faced throughout time. Oppression, debauchery, torture, rape, slaughter, blood magic, and slavery lasting beyond death to eternity, not by the hands of the humans - those only came much later - but by their own people, the leaders meant to protect and guide them. Evelyn had no doubt that this kind of information would turn the stomachs of adults, much less another child like her. Yet, to be honest, she found such knowledge fascinating. It was funny and sad to hear people whispering about Fen'Harel as if he were the ultimate monster, while here she read about ancient elven nobles who were even more monstrous. She had heard about the kinds of horror that happened daily in the Tevinter Empire, and yet they still looked like nothing compared to what these ancient records described.

Throughout the years, she wondered just how powerful the Tevinter Empire had been to be able to conquer mighty Arlathan, and why the Dread Wolf betrayed his fellow gods. Was there a war between the gods? Did they had anything to do with the Veil due to their intimate connection with the Fade? Or was it truly a sin committed by the Tevinter magisters? There were too many questions with too few answers, and she couldn't be sure what was true.

Still, she read on, charting the questions in her notes, each daydreaming of a future where she could seek out an answer for each of them. And each day, she delved deeper into Elven lore and spells. She wasn't allowed to practice them. She barely had the power to even attempt to do so, and even if she did, the books mostly contained only second-hand information about the effects, not the methods themselves.

Even so, having this knowledge was better than nothing. After all, the books were her only friends and mentors, the only things that brought comfort to her in this prison.

xxXxx

The Fade that Evelyn entered during her Harrowing was a sea of flame.

She could hear the voices of the mages and Templars she knew from around the tower begging for forgiveness. Begging her for forgiveness.

We're so sorry!

Have mercy!

Please spare us!

The shadows of them crawling at her feet, begging for mercy as if she was a god who could decide their fates. Evelyn just didn't know what to think.

"They deserve this," a Rage demon said from its spot at the top of the stair. "They torture you, hurt you, hate you for something you have no control over."

It slid down the steps to stand right in front of her. She could feel its words worming their ways into her heart.

"They treat you as if you are nothing, even after you've protected many of them. What's the point of sheltering these ungrateful creatures?"

The demon stomped on an illusion of a mage, wrenching a horrible scream of agony from them as the flame from its foot consumed the mage.

"You can do this to them for real. With the right word." It held out a flaming hand to her, and for a moment, Evelyn could see and feel it—the ecstasy she could have by letting out her rage.

But then she remembered the tears she had seen in those mages eyes whenever they lost a friend to the Templars. She remembered the empty eyes of the Tranquil, the lost look on the faces of the young children when they first arrived at the Tower.

She remembered the laughter of the young mages over silly jokes as she listening to them. She remembered the childlike wonder they had when they first learned a proper spell.

She remembered the innocent children she had seen as she passed through the halls to reach the top floor for her Harrowing.

Her answer was clear.

And the sea of flame turned into a sea of ice.

xxXxx

When Evelyn opened her eyes in the real world, the Templars were in the middle of pulling out their swords while the First Enchanter was begging them to wait just a little more because, apparently, it has only been around half of the time a normal apprentice could have.

Ah, so the Templars were itching to get rid of her then. Too bad for them.

She came to thank the First Enchanter in person that evening. He ignored her, as usual, but it was okay.

Everything remained the same afterward. Until the news about Kirkwall came.

xxXxx

Evelyn wasn't all that concerned when their Circle fell. Well, not exactly... She did care about helping the other mages out of their prison and surviving this battle, but she didn't have any intention of joining the rebellion for good.

"We need you, Trevelyan," one woman said. "Someone of your talent is needed in this fight for our freedom!"

"The elder mages are looking to stay out of this fight but you know we cannot. The Templars will kill us all when they have a chance!" said another young mage around her age.

"You are Fen'Harel's bride, Evelyn. With you on our side, we can do this!" This time it was Rennard, the elf boy who had exposed her secret, who came forward.

It was funny to see a few elves and humans encourage her to rebel, to join forces when they had all been so quick to push her away. But at the same time, she understood their desperation. Years of living within the Circle had shown her the kinds of horror that befell those who had magic in a world that feared it.

Now, the mages probably thought that having the mate of Fen'Harel on their side might give them some kind of advantage, whatever it might be, but that wouldn't do. She knew that as long as magic could still be contained by Templars, to be denied by the Chantry and only available to a select few, this war and this struggle would continue. So in the end, she ignored the Circle mages with their words of encouragement and set out on her own with a new purpose:

To find a way to bring magic back to everyone in this world.

Perhaps it was an impossible goal for a young, inexperienced mage like her but this was what she chose to do, to see mages being able to live free from their prison, to ensure that the Circles were forever destroyed. She had learned and accepted a long time ago that one way or another, people would die. She had seen mages who fought for their freedom being put down like animals, and she had witnessed mages who tried to live in their shackles obediently being trampled upon for no reason other than because their oppressors could do so.

That belief was simply reinforced when Templars slaughtered the mages in her Circle despite most of the latter's effort to avoid being a threat. That night, when she escaped that blighted tower, stepping through the blood of mages and Tranquil alike, was the night she believed more than ever in a world where magic was integral to the world, and no Templar could take that away.

Of course, she didn't plan to just rip out the Veil. No, she would find a way to do it gently, to let things move as gradually as they could. Just because one could do something, that didn't mean they shouldn't avert as much damage as they could. It would take years, but she didn't mind. As long as she no longer had to see what had happened in that tower throughout all those years, she could endure this.

She wasn't a saint who did everything for the greater good, though. Her goal was selfish, too. A large part of her just wanted to see this world as it had been in the eyes of the ancient elves. She wanted to see magic and wonders that had long been erased from this world, existing only now as stories and records that even the elves have forgotten about. To be able to witness even just a small part of it would be enough to make her happy, and she was determined to do so.

And so, all alone, she ventured into the unforgiving world.

xxXxx

She spent months and months traveling around Thedas, practicing the few elven spells contained in the books she carried with her when she came to rest. She would venture into to old ruins and unearth ancient artifacts that had been buried away for millennia. Her hands pulled out books covered in dust that no one dared to touch, special touchstones hidden away under layers of spells which often took her numerous attempts of either finding another way around or trying different dispelling rituals to deal with them.

Sometimes, it was pure luck that she got her hands on something valuable but most of the time, she had to pay for it with sweat and blood and a lot of mana. The only reason she hadn't died yet was due to her knowing enough about Elvhenan to see hints most other people wouldn't notice.

She didn't completely cut herself off from the rest of the world, though, as she still made contact with human settlements and Dalish clans here and there. It was mostly for trading food but also to exchange knowledge with the Keepers and keep up with current affairs around Thedas. Most of them were wary of her, which wasn't a big surprise given how few humans were interested enough in elven culture to ask about them; but by showing respect, mindfully covering her mark, and not staying with them long enough to arouse suspicion, she was safe.

The few times they managed to discover who she was, she either was lucky enough to run away really fast or they were too shocked and scared to do anything to her.

She had spent so many years avoiding the name Fen'Harel out loud, but it was stuck as permanently in her mind as it was on her skin. The sorrow and resentment of childhood had given way to curiosity, and a desire to know him better many years ago, so when she discovered the truth about him, or part of it, it was heartening.

The God of Rebellion! How could she not see it before? Given how much wrong knowledge had been passed down and distorted through time, of course, the stories about her soulmate could have been changed too.

The revelation gave her a new boost of motivation to continue on her way. She might not actually know Fen'Harel as a person, but knowing that somehow the person whose fate connected with her also had the same purpose gave her a better sense of direction. However, she didn't have much hope of actually meeting him. She knew well that there were people who couldn't find their soulmate despite a lifetime of searching, and with the fact that hers was a god who was even more elusive and unknown than a random human saint of the Chantry, the likelihood of her meeting him was slim to none.

It didn't matter, she could still live on, thankful to fate for being connected to him making her who she currently was, and that was enough. Even if she still felt incomplete, this current life that she had was still enough, and it was all that mattered.

xxXxx

Evelyn came to Haven mostly wanting to find out if she could meet directly with someone who worked for her family or, if she was fortunate enough, with one of her siblings. Even if her parents had abandoned her, they were still family and she just wanted to know if they were okay. But what greeted her there was waking up with her hands cuffed by a Seeker who was completely prepared to kill her for her apparent sin of destroying the Conclave, and everyone in it. Most horrifying of all, there was a hole in the sky, and a mark on her left hand that hurt beyond all reason, yet somehow could mend the Veil.

When one of her new acquaintances, Varric, offhandedly mentioned that it was his companion Solas who had kept Evelyn alive while she was out cold, all she could think about was the fact that he must have seen her soulmark and might turn on her at any moment. That, combined with everything else, had made her so distracted that she didn't notice that the look on Solas's face when he saw her was completely different from the reaction elves usually had.