Work Text:
The envelope on Trevelyan’s desk was thick, heavy and made from the best quality paper. The handwriting on the front was familiar, disturbingly so. Over the years she’d received many missives dressed to her in that hand, mostly letters of rebuke. The Inquisitor’s suspicions were confirmed when she turned the envelope over; her family seal was on the back and that was indeed her father’s handwriting.
She tore open the envelope, wondering what she could possibly have done now to earn Bann Calder Trevelyan’s ire. Somehow she could imagine being named Herald of Andraste not being enough to make up for her past disappointments. It was worse even than she’d imagined; the contents of the envelope set her heart racing.
Her parents wanted to visit. They were coming to Skyhold.
When Josephine came up the stairs with more correspondence for the Inquisitor to deal with Trevelyan was flapping around her quarters having a proper panic attack. Demons and giant holes in the sky hadn’t put the Inquisitor into this kind of tizzy, but a simple letter had.
“Inquisitor,” Josephine said, her voice full of concern. “Whatever is the matter?”
Trevelyan thrust the pile of parchment at the ambassador and resumed pacing the room. “My parents are coming to visit.”
“And that is… not a good thing I take it?”
The Inquisitor shook her head violently.
“I am afraid I do not understand. Perhaps you could explain.” Josephine perched on the edge of the settee and gestured for the Inquisitor to join her but the pacing continued unabated.
“I haven’t seen my parents since before the Conclave,” Trevelyan said running her hands though her hair nervously. Josephine made a sympathetic noise at her and the Inquisitor knew she understood; none of them were the same people they’d been before that fateful day, but that wasn’t what was bothering her most about this prospective visit. How could she explain?
“I’m hardly the same person I was before the Breach,” she continued, still pacing. “I mean, I’ve always been a disappointment to my family for not serving the Chantry like a good Trevelyan, and somehow I feel my being Inquisitor won’t actually make up for that.” She paused to take a shaky breath. “I’m not that person any more and I’m proud of who I am and how far I’ve come. Honestly, I don’t really care what they think of me now. This isn’t really about me anyway.”
“Then who is it about?”
“Cassandra.”
“Ah.”
Trevelyan continued as though Josephine hadn’t spoken. “If my parents are coming to visit then that means they’re going to find out about Cassandra and I and I haven’t even told them about us yet and oh Maker they’re going to end up meeting her–”
“Inquisitor, breathe. Come, sit with me.” Josephine used the tone of voice that had tamed a hundred truculent nobles and Trevelyan did as she was told. “Now, why exactly are you so worried about your parents meeting the woman you love?”
Trevelyan gave a hollow laugh. “Surely you of all people understand that any form of romance between two women is accepted by the nobility as long as it doesn’t interfere with the important business of continuing the family name. Neither Cassandra or I are particularly required to produce heirs; me because I have plenty of older siblings and Cassandra because not even the Pentaghasts particularly care to continue a line that has already produced traitors, but still…”
“You’re worried that when your parents find out about your relationship with Lady Cassandra they might try to have you married off?” Josephine looked and sounded utterly horrified at the notion.
“By law they have that right, Inquisitor or not.” Trevelyan slumped forwards and buried her face in her hands. “I know Cassandra; her sense of duty wouldn’t allow her to carry on with a married woman and it would kill me to not be with her.” She sat back, her eyes closed. When she spoke next her voice was deadly quiet and raw with emotion. “I love her. For as long as I live I will love her and I never want to be with anyone else. I don’t care about duty or political convenience or producing heirs. I would rather die than lose Cassandra, do you understand, Josephine?”
For a few moments Josephine simply sat there with her mouth slightly open, seemingly shocked into silence by the confession the Inquisitor had just made. Then she shook herself and continued with her usual business like demeanour. “While I am pleased you feel you can confide this in me Inquisitor, surely Lady Cassandra is the one you should be talking to about this? After all, she is just as involved in this as you are.”
The Inquisitor sighed. “You are right, as usual Lady Montiliyet. I will speak with Cassandra, but I don’t know whether she’ll be able to completely allay my fears.”
“Just try to relax, Lady Trevelyan. We do not know for sure how your family will react, or what they will do. Until we know for sure we shouldn’t assume the worst.”
“That sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there.”
Josephine smiled, and it wasn’t a nice smile; this was devious and predatory. The Inquisitor was suddenly reminded that her friend was an incredibly skilled player of the Great Game. “Naturally we will plan for the worst without necessarily assuming it. With your permission I will speak with the rest of the council. Together we should be able to come up with several ideas for dealing with a scenario in which your parents attempt to marry you off. We’ll be ready.”
Trevelyan heaved a sigh of relief. “I cannot thank you enough, Josephine.”
The Ambassador waved her off. “Nonsense, this sort of thing is the reason I am here. I’m just glad I can use my skills to help out a friend.” Josephine laid a hand gently on the Inquisitor’s arm. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that I and the rest of the Inquisition will back you to the hilt. And if all else fails we can simply have Leliana assassinate your parents.”
The Inquisitor looked like she was seriously considering that as an option before she burst out laughing. “Thank you Josephine, you’ve made me feel much better. Now, you didn’t come up here to listen to me whine, what did you need me for?”
“Nothing that cannot wait Inquisitor. Speak with Cassandra, I will make your excuses to the rest of the council.”
Trevelyan didn’t need telling twice; she jumped to her feet and started down the stairs before pausing to look back at her friend. “Thank you Josie. For everything.”
Josephine looked at her sternly, though there was a smile twitching in the corners of her mouth. “Go!”
The Inquisitor took off down the stairs laughing.
***
Seeker Pentaghast was in her usual spot by the training dummies. Despite the magnitude of the conversation she need to have with her, Trevelyan took a moment to stand an appreciate the woman she loved. Cassandra was a strikingly beautiful woman and she never looked more so than when she had a sword in her hand. The Inquisitor didn’t often get to appreciate the Seeker’s skill and prowess; all too often it was the only thing that stood between her and an untimely end. There was something about the threat of imminent death that prevented the Inquisitor enjoying the most aesthetic aspects of the Seeker’s skill with a blade. But here, in the relative safety of Skyhold, Trevelyan could admire to her heart’s content, so she did. Only when Cassandra was finished with her drills did she approach. To do otherwise would invite the other woman’s anger and likely result in the Inquisitor lying flat on her back in the dirt.
“Can we speak? Privately?” Despite her best efforts Trevelyan could not keep her voice steady.
Cassandra’s brow furrowed but she nodded and led the Inquisitor to the loft above the armoury; it might not be the most romantic spot in the keep, but the constant sound of metal being hammered covered any conversation. “Something is wrong,” she said without any preamble as soon as they’d reached the first floor.
Trevelyan fidgeted. That much was obvious.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Cassandra sounded worried.
“Nothing serious, at least not compared to what we deal with every day.” She took a deep breath and just came out with it. “It’s my parents. They’re coming to Skyhold.”
For a moment Cassandra looked puzzled (something that Trevelyan would normally find adorable) but then understanding seemed to dawn. She was a Seeker of Truth and had spent decades of her life learning to cut right to the heart of matters, and Cassandra was intimately familiar with all of Trevelyan’s ticks and tells, but most of all she was familiar with her heart. She crossed her arms over her chest. “May I assume that you have been as forthcoming with your parents concerning our relationship as I have been with my own family?”
“If by that you mean I’ve not told them anything then yes. Mostly because it’s none of their business.”
Cassandra looked like she might disagree with that statement but didn’t say anything. “What do you think they will do?”
“I don’t know,” Trevelyan said with a sigh, “that’s the problem. I fear the worst though.” Her face hardened. “I’ll tell you now, if they make it a choice between them and you then I’ll pick you. It isn’t even a contest.”
Cassandra looked surprised at that but there was a little curl in the corner of her mouth that told Trevelyan that she was secretly pleased by the declaration. “You would risk being disowned by your family, for me?” Her voice was full of wonder.
Trevelyan stepped closer and took the Seeker’s hands in her own. “I haven’t been close with my parents in years; we’ve never exactly seen eye to eye. It doesn’t matter, they’re my past. You, Cassandra, are my future. Being disowned I can live with but losing you would destroy me.” She cupped the other woman’s face with her hand, gently moving her fingers over the ragged scar on her cheek. “I swear to you Cassandra, the only way I am leaving you is through death.”
There were tears in the Seeker’s eyes. “You shouldn’t make such declarations when we are fighting to save the world. One false move and either of us could so easily fall.”
The Inquisitor continued caressing her lover’s face. “I know,” she said quietly. “Every time we go out on an expedition I know one of us might not make it back. We’ve both survived impossible things but we never know when our luck, or the Maker’s grace, might run out. I know we could lose each other so easily.” She kissed the corner of Cassandra’s mouth and the Seeker’s eyes fluttered closed momentarily. “But I also know you’re the reason I fight so hard. The reason I don’t just want to defeat Corypheus, I want to survive. I want to die an old woman after a lifetime of loving you, Cassandra, and I’m going to fight with everything I have to make that happen.”
Cassandra was crying in earnest now but didn’t seem to want to brush away the tears. Trevelyan did it for her. “I know how you feel,” Cassandra said. “I want the same.”
The Inquisitor pulled her close, so her mouth was by Cassandra’s ear. “If somehow Corypheus manages to take you from me I promise that there’s not a power in Thedas that will be able to stop me from making him pay.”
Cassandra pulled Trevelyan into a heated kiss. By the time they pulled apart both their faces were wet.
“I don’t know why you were so worried about your parents,” said Cassandra with a shaky laugh.
“Me neither,” Trevelyan said, and for the first time since she’d seen that damn letter she felt calm about her parent’s imminent visit. “I guess I just needed to say that out loud. To say it to you. Whatever my parents decide to do, however they react, it doesn’t matter. We’ll deal with it together. As long as you’re by my side I can do anything.”
“You know I will stand by you no matter what.” Cassandra took a deep breath. “And if they disown you?”
Trevelyan shrugged. “My place within the Inquisition isn’t dependent on my family name, nor have we particularly made use of my family contacts. As far as the Inquisition is concerned my name is of no consequence. All that matters is this,” she said, waving the hand with the Anchor.
“You know that’s not true,” Cassandra protested.
The Inquisitor shrugged. “Maybe not, but I don’t need to be a Trevelyan to save the world.”
“It’s not the world I’m worried about if you get disowned by your family,” said Cassandra in a gentle tone of voice few other people ever got to hear.
“I know,” Trevelyan replied, matching her tone in an attempt to placate her tempestuous lover. “Honestly, I don’t know if it will come to that but if it does I’ll cope somehow. It’ll take some getting used to not being a Trevelyan but I’ll be fine. I’ll have you and that’s more important to me than being Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick.”
Cassandra nodded, accepting what Trevelyan had said. There would be other conversations about this, about their future together, there would have to be—the subject of the large and powerful Pentaghast clan and their possible reaction hadn’t even been mentioned—but they’d both said all they needed to for now. Relieved beyond words, the Inquisitor pressed her mouth to Cassandra’s and let herself get lost. No more words passed between them for some time.
***
Scouts had spotted the banners in the valley hours ago; the Trevelyans of Ostwick were on Skyhold’s doorstep. Important visitors were a frequent sight in Skyhold and didn’t usually warrant the kind of of greeting laid out on this occasion. But then it could be argued that these particular guests were the most important the Inquisition had ever hosted.
The Inquisitor would have been less nervous if Corypheus himself had come to visit.
She and her advisors were all decked out in the Inquisition’s formal wear, the same uniforms they’d worn for the ball at Halamshiral. Cassandra had refused, instead opting to wear her usual Seeker’s garb, which was just one of the reasons Trevelyan was shaking with nerves; Leliana kept having to slap her hands away to stop her playing with her collar.
At last they heard the sound of hooves on the drawbridge and, as though that were some kind of prearranged signal, everyone in the welcome party straightened up, standing to attention. Despite her nerves Trevelyan felt a surge of affection as her parents’ horses entered the lower courtyard and they dismounted; they were a familiar sight and Trevelyan hadn’t realised until now just how much she needed a reminder of a time when life had been less complicated. They were the most normal thing she’d seen since the Breach had ripped open the sky and changed her life forever and, despite her tempestuous relationship with her family, Trevelyan felt somewhat relieved.
She stepped forward, her most Inquisitorial face on, still not quite sure what to expect from them. “Mother, Father.” She nodded at them in greeting.
Calder Trevelyan was a tall man, broad shouldered and dark tempered. He was the parent the Inquisitor was most concerned about. Her mother on the other hand, Kathryn, was slender, petite, every inch a proper lady and, annoyingly, her youngest daughter was the spitting image of her mother.
“Evelyn!” her mother cried, opening her arms to embrace her child. Trevelyan couldn’t help but wince at the use of her hated given name.
“I prefer Trevelyan, mother,” she said, stepping into the other woman’s arms and accepting the embrace.
Kathryn scoffed. “I am not about to call my daughter by her surname.”
The Inquisitor grumbled, but this was an old argument, one she knew she couldn’t win. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, she disentangle herself from her mother’s embrace and turned to her other parent.
“Father.”
“Evelyn.”
They embraced awkwardly and when they parted Trevelyan turned to introduce her advisers, who—with the exception of Cassandra—were looking anywhere but at the Inquisitor and her parents. Josephine and Leliana both had carefully schooled courteous looks on their faces, neither giving anything of their true feelings away. Even Cullen, who was normally an open book, was attempting to keep his face as bland as possible, though he might have bypassed blank and veered into looking slightly constipated. Cassandra was wearing her trademark scowl and kept looking at the Inquisitor’s parents as though they might turn into demons at any moment.
Trevelyan sighed. What she wouldn’t give for a prank from Sera or a ribald comment from Bull right now. Alas they had both been ordered to be on their best behaviour and were firmly away from proceedings; Josephine and Leliana were downright terrifying when they joined forces.
“Mother, Father, allow me to introduce my advisory council. This is Commander Cullen Rutherford, head of the Inquisition’s armed forces.”
He gave a small, respectful bow but kept quiet. Trevelyan imagined he was under instructions from the other two thirds of the council; Maker knew he was more than capable of putting his foot in it at exactly the wrong time.
“Sister Leliana of the Chantry, Nightingale of the Imperial Court, Left Hand to Divine Justinia and Seneschal of the Inquisition.”
“Delighted to meet you.” There was a smile playing about the spymaster’s lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes. If her parents were aware of Leliana’s reputation—and there was no reason they shouldn’t be—they should be terrified right now, and with good reason. Trevelyan’s parents, however, were practiced players of the game and gave nothing away.
“Lady Josephine Montiliyet of Antiva, our Ambassador and head of diplomatic relations.”
“A pleasure,” said Josephine, dropping into a curtsy, an almost genuine smile on her face. Calder Trevelyan kissed the outstretched hand, making Josephine giggle girlishly; suddenly Trevelyan knew exactly how her council were going to play this. Judging by the badly hidden lecherous look in her father’s eyes (that her mother was desperately trying to ignore) both her parents had massively underestimated Josephine, something many a fool had come to regret.
Trevelyan turned to Cassandra and she couldn’t help the way her voice softened as she made the introduction. “This is Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast of Nevarra, Hero of Orlais and Right Hand to Divines Beatrix and Justinia.”
Cassandra gave a curt little bow, barely inclining her head. Trevelyan saw the gleam in her father’s eyes that meant trouble; he’d identified a weakness.
“And what, exactly is it you do around here?” Bann Trevelyan asked in an almost painfully polite voice. The Inquisitor instinctively braced for impact, as did Cullen, but the explosion they expected wasn’t forthcoming.
“I am Inquisitor Trevelyan’s sword and shield. It is my duty to smite her enemies and protect her from whatever dangers she might face.” Cassandra managed to keep her voice neutral, but there was a small crease between her brows which warned Trevelyan of trouble. She rushed to intervene before her boneheaded father and ultra-combative lover could escalate further.
“Seeker Pentaghast is the one who declared the Inquisition,” she said, hoping her deflection wouldn’t be too obvious. “Without Cassandra none of us would be here.”
Her father sniffed, clearly not impressed. Trevelyan had to resist the urge to punch the man.
“Its certainly an interesting group of people you’ve assembled,” he said, eying the Inquisitor’s council disapprovingly. He was using the disdainful tone of voice he’d used in his daughter every time she did something to shame the family.
“We like to toe the line between being a ragtag band if misfits and an organised fighting force that might have a chance at saving the world,” said the Inquisitor hoping to defuse the situation with a little humour.
Bann Trevelyan hummed noncommittally and the Inquisitor knew the meeting was teetering on the knife edge of going very badly. Trevelyan eyed Josephine meaningfully and she stepped in to rescue the situation, offering to take the Inquisitor’s parents on a tour of Skyhold. As much as she wanted to hide herself in the Herald’s Rest with a mug of questionable ale, Trevelyan joined the tour. Leliana expertly pulled Cullen and Cassandra away to deal with other business.
During the tour, Josephine introduced the Inquisitor’s parents to some of the more respectable members of the inner circle. Madame de Fer behaved impeccably, to no one’s surprise, as did Dorian, who refused to be shown up by his fellow mage. Warden Blackwall said very little, which was why he’d been chosen for this detail in the first place. Varric more than made up for the Warden’s laconic manner with his trademark loquaciousness, though Cassandra might have protested at the dwarf being considered remotely respectable.
At the conclusion of the tour and highly controlled meet and greet was the welcome banquet. By this point Trevelyan’s patience was stretched almost to breaking point and things weren’t likely to improve. For one thing all the less predictable members of the Inquisition would be in attendance and Trevelyan was not looking forward to having Bull and Sera in the same room as her parents and copious amounts of wine. For another she wasn’t going to be able to get any time alone with Cassandra at least until the feast was done. For some reason Trevelyan felt in desperate need of some reassurance from her lover.
Josephine had sat them several seats from each other at the Inquisitor’s request, something Trevelyan was deeply regretting now. Her gaze kept drifting to Cassandra’s face, the two of them communicating their mutual disdain for proceedings via a series of raised eyebrows, eyerolls and barely visible mouth twitches. They were probably being completely obvious, even to those who didn’t know they were together, but it was the only way the Inquisitor could get through functions like this. She knew Cassandra felt the same. In any case, everyone in the great hall was distracted by a great booming laugh and a series of mischievous giggles. At least nothing had been set on fire. Yet.
She managed to slip out into the garden shortly after dessert was finished, much to Josephine’s great disdain, but it wasn’t the Seeker who followed her. It was her mother.
“Still not comfortable with these sorts of functions,” said Kathryn Trevelyan moving to stand next to her daughter.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them,” she replied blowing out a frustrated breath. “Ask me to save the world and I can do that no problem but the meetings, banquets and paperwork are just too much for me.”
“You still deflect discomfort with humour,” Kathryn said. “Your father’s never gotten that. I think it’s why the two of you argue so much.”
“He’s also never liked the fact he can’t control me like he can my more reasonable siblings.” Trevelyan tried to keep the resentment out of her voice but didn’t quite succeed. “I make my own choices and deal with the consequences and he’s always found that hard to deal with.”
“Can you understand why? That tendency to act first and worry later is why you’re in this position now, is it not?” Kathryn took hold of the Inquisitor’s left hand, running her fingers gently over the Anchor, which was glowing faintly in the darkening evening.
Trevelyan pulled her hand away, the truth of her mother’s words hitting uncomfortably close to home. Flashes of recently regained memories raced through her mind, reminding her of things she didn’t want to think of. “It is,” she said simply and grew quiet.
After a few moments Kathryn turned back to her daughter and said, “so Evelyn, tell me about this Seeker of yours.”
If the Inquisitor had been drinking something she’d have spit it out. As it was she almost choked at the sudden change in subject. “I’m sorry, what?”
Kathryn Trevelyan smiled and her daughter remembered why she’d not visited either parent in years. Her father was stubborn and pigheaded and disapproved of nearly every decision she made but it was her mother who was the dangerous one. Her mother was as sharp as a knife and saw far too much, expertly reading the little details in a way that made her seem damned near psychic sometimes. That kind of ability in a skilled player of the Game was downright alarming and was one of the major reasons Trevelyan didn’t get on well with her mother; she found it difficult to be herself around someone she couldn’t keep any secrets from.
“Relax Evelyn,” she said, holding up a placating hand. “I’m not going to meddle, but even your father noticed the way you spoke about the Lady Cassandra. And you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other during dinner.”
Trevelyan sighed. Her mother was right, as usual. It was one of the things she hated most about her. “Cassandra and I are together, yes,” she ground out wanting to give away as little detail as possible. She’d anticipated this conversation of course but had hoped it would occur much later in the visit. And preferably when she was deep in her cups.
As soon as the words were out she regretted them. How could she reduce what she and Cassandra shared to such a practical statement? The words didn’t do her justice and the Inquisitor felt ashamed. She sighed closing her eyes for a moment.
“Cassandra is…” She paused, fumbling for the words that would fully describe the feeling of fullness in her chest. “Cassandra is the love of my life,” she said finally.
“It’s serious then?”
“Very.”
“And yet you neglected to mention your lover in any of the letters you’ve sent home.” Kathryn’s voice was light but Trevelyan could hear the hurt underneath.
“Can you blame me? For years now I’ve written you and father letters to let you know I’m still alive while carefully keeping out any details you might use to try to guess motive or father might disapprove of. And since the Conclave so much has happened I can barely put it in my reports let alone articulate in a letter to my family. I’m so used to writing letters devoid of any real information it was just easier to continue.”
The Inquisitor sighed, the sound rattling up right from the soles of her feet. “Since the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes it feels like everything I’ve done has been for everyone but me. The fate of Thedas rests on my shoulders and for the most part I’ve carried the burden without complaint. My relationship with Cassandra is the only thing I’ve truly done for me since the Breach ripped a hole in the sky. Can you blame me for wanting to keep to myself a while longer? Especially when I had no idea how you’d react.”
“What did you think we would do, Evelyn?”
The Inquisitor shrugged, remembering an afternoon spent pacing in front of Josephine pondering that exact question. “There are so many things you could do I never really managed to settle on anything.” At least her answer was honest, if not particularly satisfying.
Kathryn looked out across the garden. Someone had set out candles all along the walls and on the side of the well and it made the garden look welcoming and almost romantic. The evening breeze carried the scent of elfroot and crystal grace. Trevelyan took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scents and found herself relaxing. Just a little.
“You are your own person, Evelyn,” said Kathryn quietly. “You always have been. And now you have the might of an Inquisition behind you. I’ve seen the way these people look at you, Evelyn, anyone of them would die for you and that’s no small thing. With such people at your back their is nothing your father and I can do to you without your consent, even if we desired to do so.” The look in her eyes was completely sincere.
Trevelyan hardly dared breathe, fearful of disturbing the strange peace that had arisen between her and her mother.
“Tell me Evelyn, are you happy? With your Seeker?”
“Yes,” the Inquisitor replied without hesitation. A smile spread across her face, the first genuine one since her parents had arrived that day. “Cassandra makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my life, even considering the nature of the work we do.”
Kathryn nodded. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for my children, all I’ve ever wanted for you. If you’re happy then that’s good enough for me.” She patted her daughter’s hand and turned to go back into the main hall. “Oh, just one more thing,” she added over her shoulder.
Trevelyan braced for impact. “Yes mother?”
“If you are indeed serious about this woman then I’d appreciate it if you’d do things correctly. We should have dinner just the four of us and you can properly introduce us to your beloved.”
“I will,” said Trevelyan, immeasurably relieved that that was the only stipulation.
“Good,” said Kathryn, returning to the feast.
The Inquisitor sighed expelling all of the nervous energy she’d been carrying around with her since she’d received the letter. If her mother was on board and being supportive then everything would be fine. No matter how her father reacted her mother would talk him down. There would be no attempt to marry her off to some suitable noble’s son, even if only because the Trevelyans of Ostwick couldn’t hope to oppose the might of the Inquisition. She was safe to love whoever she wanted.
“So that went better than you expected.” Cassandra stepped out of the shadows , reminding Trevelyan that she could indeed be stealthy when she wanted to be. Most of the time it was just easier to walk up to things and hit them in the face.
The Inquisitor couldn’t help her smile. “How long have you been stood there?”
“I managed to sneak out not long after you did.” She paused and even in the fading light Trevelyan could see the faint blush on her cheeks. “I followed your mother. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Strong, familiar arms went around Trevelyan’s waist. This was the first moment they’d had together since they’d gotten out of bed that morning and the Inquisitor intended to make the most of it. She wound her hands around Cassandra’s neck and pressed a kiss to her jaw. “So,” she said, “did I do alright with my mother?”
“As well as could be expected,” Cassandra replied, her breath hot against Trevelyan’s mouth. “I could stand to hear more about me being the love of your life.”
“Have I not been clear enough about that? Please, allow me to demonstrate more clearly.” She captured Cassandra’s lips with her own and for a few blissful minutes all that existed for them was hot breath and murmured endearments. Then Josephine arrived to drag them back to the great hall (separately of course) but she had a smile on her face as she did so.
The Inquisitor finished up her duties for the evening and showed her parents to their quarters. Her mother kissed her on the cheek and retired for the night with an imperious swish of her skirts. Her father, on the other hand, lingered. His face was a deep crimson and she wasn’t sure whether it was from the drink or embarrassment. Either way, he seemed to have something to say before he turned in. He was fidgeting with the hair at the back of his neck like he always did when he was embarrassed.
“Good match, a Pentaghast,” he said quickly before making a tactical retreat to his chambers.
The Inquisitor’s mouth dropped open in complete and utter shock. Of all the reactions she imagined her father might have to her relationship with Cassandra, that wasn’t one of them. Her mother must have spoken to him; that was the only explanation. But even so… that was dangerously close to approval, which is something Trevelyan was certain she’d never get from her father.
He was right though: politically speaking a member of the Pentaghast clan—any member, to be honest—was an excellent match for a Marcher noble. She just hadn’t been expecting it to be so easy to gain their understanding, or as quick. Trevelyan had planned for a protracted campaign with heavy casualties on both sides and she’d gotten away with a largely bloodless coup. She didn’t think she could be any happier with the way things had turned out. Then she remembered she had to have dinner with Cassandra and her parents and her good mood fled.
Oh well, she though to herself. Better planning a dinner than a war.
Putting aside her issues with dinner for the moment, she whistled her way up the stairs to her quarters.
***
Trevelyan couldn’t remember having an official introduction between her parents and her paramour feel more awkward. But then she wasn’t sure she’d actually introduced any of her previous lovers to her parents so maybe it was no surprise that it was the most awkward thing she’d ever done. Cassandra, who had slain dragons and faced down abominations, Red Templars and even revered mothers without breaking out in a sweat, had had an honest to the Maker panic attack at the prospect of dinner with Lord and Lady Trevelyan. It had taken Josephine and Leliana three hours to calm her down and instil a few reminders of correct etiquette and long-forgotten protocol into her. Three hours during which the Inquisitor had managed to work herself into a panic that no one had time to fix.
So here the four of them were, staring at each other awkwardly over bowls of probably exquisite soup. Trevelyan was starting to wish she’d taken Leliana up on her offer of assassination, though she wasn’t sure whether she’d call in that favour for herself or her parents.
The Inquisitor finally managed to break the excruciating silence with a comment about Josephine, which sent her father off on an impassioned rant about the Ambassador’s many qualities. He’d only been in Skyhold four days and already Lady Montiliyet had him wrapped around her little finger. No doubt Josephine would make full use of this fact when it was most beneficial either to her or the Inquisition.
It turned out that letting Calder Trevelyan dominate the conversation wasn’t any less awkward than the silence; Cassandra’s cheeks were steadily getting redder and Lady Kathryn was smiling beatifically, pretending with all her might that she didn’t know anything about her husband’s infidelities: past, present or imagined future. Trevelyan shot a pleading look in her mother’s direction. She was the only one who could bring her father back under control when he was like this.
“Now then, darling,” Kathryn said in a silky voice, rescuing everyone from further embarrassment. “I think Evelyn has a better idea of Lady Montiliyet’s positive attributes than you do, my dear.” He took the hint quicker than Trevelyan thought he would and shovelled more soup into his mouth. His wife patted him on the arm before turning to Cassandra. “Lady Pentaghast…” she began.
“Cassandra, please,” she replied quickly. “Or Seeker if you must.” Trevelyan did her best not to wince; Cassandra had always hated that particular permutation of her name.
“Cassandra then,” Kathryn said, with the fist hint of a genuine smile Trevelyan had seen since this torture began. “I’ve heard so much about you and your many great accomplishments, both with the Inquisition and beforehand, but Evelyn hasn’t told me much about how the two of you got together. It seems to me that two women with the weight of so much responsibility on their backs might find it difficult to make time for romance. I’m curious how you managed it and would like to hear more about that if you don’t mind.”
Heat flooded Trevelyan’s cheeks and she knew she was blushing, hard. Cassandra though had a soft smile on her face.
“She got Varric to write me a book,” she said, with a satisfied sigh and a wistful lilt to her voice. Trevelyan’s parents looked confused so Cassandra gamely launched into a detailed description of how a determined Trevelyan managed to woo a mostly oblivious Cassandra.
The Inquisitor knew the story already—she’d lived it after all—but hearing the woman she loved relay it to her parents with such passion made her appreciate what she had all the more. Watching Cassandra’s animated face was worth everything to her; there was no way she could have given this up. She was glad she didn’t have to.
It had all started with that damned serial of Varric’s. Cassandra revealed her love of the trashy romances to the Inquisitor’s parents far more easily than she’d revealed it to Trevelyan herself. Armed with the knowledge that Cassandra was a true romantic at heart Trevelyan had begun the most proper courtship she was capable of; poetry, flowers, wine, candles, the works. Still, it took weeks for Cassandra to notice and even then she required an intervention from most of the members of the inner circle before she was able to admit that the Inquisitor might be attracted to her.
The courtship had continued after the big reveal and for months every person in Skyhold could feel the unresolved sexual tension between the two women. Everything came to a head on an expedition to the Storm Coast to hunt a high dragon. After the battle, their veins buzzing with adrenaline and desire, Trevelyan and Cassandra could barely keep their hands off each other. They managed to make it back to camp but the first time they made love was in a tent with Sera and Bull making whooping noises outside while Dorian loudly offered to critique their performance. Needless to say their second time together was much more in keeping with what they’d both imagined.
Thankfully, when telling the story to the Inquisitor’s parents Cassandra kept a few of the more salacious details to herself, which mostly meant Sera and Bull were completely absent. In the Seeker’s hands their courtship sounded like a romance for the ages, something that should one day be committed to paper itself. Cassandra often claimed she wasn’t good with words but Trevelyan thought she was doing an admirable job at expressing herself in this instance. At the conclusion of the story (which did involve the dragon but the lovemaking was downgraded to a first kiss for the sake of parental sensibilities) Cassandra and Trevelyan shared a look. It was a look that spoke of the depths of the affection that lay between them. Trevelyan reached over took Cassandra’s hand, bringing it to her mouth for a quick kiss.
Trevelyan looked back over to her parents in time to catch them exchanging some silent communication of their own. Judging by the affectionate smiles on both her mother and father’s face, the dinner and, more importantly, the story, had finally won them over completely. After that the four of them relaxed in each other’s company and the rest of the meal flew by. They stayed at the table long after darkness fell and four bottles of wine fell victim to the extended conversation. Trevelyan couldn’t remember ever enjoying her parents’ company as much as she did that night and even Cassandra—who could be brash and difficult to get along with—seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself. She was relaxed and spoke easily on a great many subjects, her face suffused with a delicate blush that Trevelyan found captivating.
As the evening grew on, fatigue and the effects of the wine became too much to ignore. When Kathryn began to yawn delicately behind her hand the Inquisitor knew it was time to call it a night. She escorted her parents to the doors of her quarters knowing that for the first time since they’d arrived in Skyhold she would sleep well. That had a lot to do with knowing that Cassandra would be sleeping at her side, something they didn’t bother trying to hide from Trevelyan’s parents. If they noticed they didn’t care.
Kathryn displayed her new-found affection by kissing both Cassandra and Evelyn on the cheek as she floated down the stairs. Calder spent another good five minutes in conversation with Cassandra, now almost as enamoured with her as he was with Josephine. When they finally ran out of things to say he pulled Cassandra into a bone crushing hug, much to her delight and Trevelyan’s surprise. He then embraced his daughter, leaning close to whisper in her ear.
“Keep hold of that one,” he said.
“I plan to,” Trevelyan whispered back through a smile.
Calder Trevelyan patted his daughter on the back and staggered off to his quarters. The Inquisitor could have sworn she heard him muttering “good match, good match” to himself all the way down the corridor.
She shut the door behind him with an audible sigh; as enjoyable as the evening had turned out to be it had taken its toll. Trevelyan felt like she’d gone three rounds with a pride demon.
“That went better than expected,” said Cassandra, her voice thick with wine and laughter.
Trevelyan wrapped her arms around the Seeker, grateful to have this woman by her side. “Well it couldn’t really have gone worse than expected.” Cassandra gave her a disapproving glare. “The success of tonight is all down to you, my love,” she said softly.
Cassandra frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I was watching your face as you told the story of how we got together. Your eyes sparkled, your cheeks were flushed and with every word you spoke you managed to convey just how much I mean to you. I fell in love with you all over again, telling that story. And so did my parents.”
“Be serious,” Cassandra said, nudging Trevelyan with her shoulder.
“I am being serious. I love you so much Cassandra, and after tonight my mother and father do too.” She blew out an amused breath, dropping the seriousness. “Which means you won’t be able to get out of coming home with me for Satinalia.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes. “I never agreed to that.”
“Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” Trevelyan said with a grin, mischief all over her face. “You’re family now; you saw that hug my father have you. You’ll get to meet all my brothers and sisters and my aunts and uncles and cousins–”
Cassandra shut her up with a kiss and dragged the Inquisitor back up the stairs to bed. Trevelyan’s only complaint at this was how long it took to get the Seeker out of her clothes.
***
The rest of the parental visit to Skyhold went off largely without a hitch, at least as far as Trevelyan and Cassandra were concerned. Dagna managed to blow something up in the Undercroft just as the Inquisitor and her guest were taking lunch in the great hall, Bull and the Chargers got into a brawl with the Trevelyan family retainers in the Herald’s rest and Sera decided that the guest suites were an appropriate place to store her jars of bees. (Bann Trevelyan discovered this when he went to get changed for the evening meal and found his closet full of rather angry bees; apparently Sera hadn’t screwed the lids on very well. Fortunately for everyone—mostly Trevelyan’s father—Stitches had long since designed a poultice that was very effective at dealing with bee stings and no one had to suffer for too long.)
Overall it was nothing they couldn’t handle. Calder and Kathryn had certainly seen worse from their daughter over the years. All in all everyone managed to make it to the end of the visit relatively unscathed, and Josephine didn’t have to resort to some of her more creative solutions for dealing with the Inquisitor’s parents. If Leliana was disappointed that she didn’t get to assassinate anyone this time around she didn’t say anything.
The visit couldn’t last forever and eventually the Trevelyans had to get back to their holdings in Ostwick; they’d left the estate under the management of the Inquisitor’s eldest brother, Maxwell, and were not entirely convinced he wouldn’t have burned the place to the ground in their absence. Despite the visit having gone better than Trevelyan could have imagined she was still looking forward to her parents’ departure; the visit had been utterly draining and she was looking forward to getting back to the comparatively simple task of saving Thedas. The farewells are much warmer than the greetings were, though.
Trevelyan’s father was stood by his horse having some intense conversation with Cullen about Maker only knew what. Trevelyan had always known those two would get on and after the initial awkward introductions had given up on trying to keep track of their conversations, which were invariably about troop management or the proper care of armour, things that didn’t really interest her. Her mother was hanging off Iron Bull’s muscular forearm with an enraptured look on her face. She’d been spending rather a lot of time around Bull since the tavern brawl. Trevelyan was sure there was a story there, she just didn’t know if it was one she wanted to hear. If she ended up with any half-Qunari siblings though she was going to castrate Bull. And then kill him.
Eventually Josephine swept down the steps from the keep and everyone brought their conversations to an end lest they fall unforgivably behind schedule. Trevelyan might be the one with the title but everyone knew who the real power in the Inquisition was.
Calder stepped forward to bid farewell to his favourite person. “Lady Josephine,” he said, kissing her on both cheeks, Orlesian fashion. “While I look forward to being back home I must admit I will miss seeing your beautiful face everyday.”
“Lord Trevelyan, you are too much,” Josephine replied with a small giggle. The Inquisitor still didn’t know what the Ambassador’s game was regarding her father but she wasn’t going to ask. Lady Montiliyet always played the long game, and she played to win; Trevelyan had given up trying to understand her machinations.
Kathryn Trevelyan disengaged herself from Bull and came over to bid her own farewells to the Ambassador. The Trevelyans made their way around the inner circle, sharing a few words and saying goodbye. They came to Cassandra and paused for a moment before Calder drew her into a bone-crushing hug. Cassandra flushed and Sera snickered in the background before she was elbowed in the ribs by Dorian.
“You take care of my little girl, you hear?” he said, quite seriously.
“I will,” replied Cassandra, equally serious. “I would lay down my life for her.”
Calder nodded, apparently satisfied and turned to his daughter to give her an equally powerful hug. The embrace squeezed all the air out her lungs and she missed what her mother said to Cassandra as she kissed the Seeker’s cheek. She’d barely escaped her father’s arms when she was scooped up in her mother’s.
“I know you’re not my little girl any more Evelyn, but please be careful. I know you have to save the world but please try not to get killed doing so if you can help it.”
“I’ll do my best,” the Inquisitor murmured, her face plastered against her mother’s cheek. As she pulled away Trevelyan could see that Kathryn had tears in her eyes and she nearly choked herself. “I’ll be careful, mother, I promise. Cassandra will kill me if I die.” The Seeker snorted with laughter at that but it successfully defused Kathryn’s maudlin mood.
After a few more hugs and kisses the party from Ostwick really had to be on their way. Horses were mounted and final preparations made and then the Inquisitor’s parents were off. As the sound of hooves on the drawbridge receded into the distance, the entire castle breathed a sigh of relief.
“That wasn’t so bad,” said Trevelyan, rubbing her temples.
“I’m not certain what you were worried about. Your father is actually quite a charming man,” said Josephine helpfully.
“Your ma’s not bad either,” said Bull in a low, appreciative rumble.
“Both of you, stop,” said the Inquisitor, holding up a hand. “I really don’t need to hear any more.” She looked to Cassandra for back up but she was gazing after the retreating party with a slightly stunned look on her face. Trevelyan nudged her with her elbow. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Cassandra’s voice was clipped, tight. Almost like she sounded when she was angry, but something wasn’t quite right.
“What did my mother say to you anyway?”
Cassandra flushed and cleared her throat. “She said… uh. She requested that we invite her to the wedding.”
Trevelyan almost choked as her assembled friends nearly collapsed with laughter. They quieted down after a few minutes of grumbling and pointed glares. “She really said that?” she asked, looking directly at Cassandra and ignoring anyone else.
Cassandra nodded. “She did.”
“Maker.”
“You getting hitched boss?” said Bull, laughing.
“Shut up Bull.” Trevelyan took a deep breath. “If and when I’m ready to get married—and I assure you Cassandra will be the first to know about it—I will make sure Josephine invites my parents.”
“Me?” said Josephine, shocked.
“I wouldn’t dare let anyone else organise my wedding,” Trevelyan said before shaking the thought away. “Now, I don’t know about anyone else but I could use a drink. Anyone want to join me?”
There was a general noise of agreement and the Inquisitor led the party to the tavern. As they climbed the stairs to the upper courtyard Cassandra slipped her arm around Trevelyan, who relaxed into the embrace. Her parents had been and gone, she and Cassandra were still together and the only person her mother was trying to marry her off to was the only one she was likely to want to marry. That really wasn’t too bad at all.
