Chapter Text
Chapter One
Evangeline Trevelyan looked up at the building with a deep sense of trepidation. She’d heard much about Skyhold Academy, one of the most exclusive boarding schools in Thedas. It had an incredible reputation, not least because its alumni included both Ferelden’s President Theirin and his First Lady. But she didn’t realize it was, technically speaking, a castle.
She looked again at the papers in her hand, the formal job offer. They’d wanted the renowned artist Marian Hawke to continue in the position; with the country-wide arts competition looming at the end of the school year, they wanted a well-known professional to get the students ready, and few artists had fame to compare with that of the Champion of Kirkwall - former crime fighter and well-known painter. But she was off on sabbatical, said to be somewhere in the Anderfels Mountains, and the offer had instead come to Evvy - a relative nobody, at least in the art world. She was pretty sure she’d been the only applicant, from what she’d heard. Still, a job was a job, and she gave her name at the door.
“Headmistress Nightingale is expecting you,” said a small brunette woman with pale green eyes and a proliferation of freckles. “Go up those stairs, turn right and go through the first door, then follow the spiral staircase all the way to the top. Actually, it might be easier if I show you...”
She led Evvy up the stairs in question and gestured to the door when they arrived. “She’s just in there. If you need anything, my name’s Harding - don’t hesitate to find me. Welcome to Skyhold.”
“I’m glad you made it,” said the headmistress. She was a no-nonsense woman with sad eyes in an unusually beautiful face, dressed all in grey. “You had no trouble finding the place, I hope?”
“No, ma’am.”
“And you’ve read the terms of the offered contract? One school year, including room and board, with no promises for further employment.”
“I understand.”
“Frankly, I’m just grateful anyone was willing to apply. All things considered, it’s not the biggest feather anyone could be putting in their cap,” the woman admitted.
“I don’t mind. I’m just happy to be working in the arts,” Evvy replied, maybe a little too earnestly.
“Well, then, let’s get you settled.”
With the formalities dispensed, Headmistress Nightingale escorted her down the stairs again. “Ah, Josie, you’re just who I need,” she said, catching sight of a woman with blue-black hair and an aristocratic nose. “This is Miss Evangeline Trevelyan, our new art teacher. Allow me to introduce our guidance counselor, Josephine Montilyet. If you could show Miss Trevelyan to the staff room, and then to her quarters…?”
“Of course. Come with me.” Josephine had a welcoming smile, and Evvy followed her through the great hall. “My office is just here,” she said, gesturing to a large desk beside a roaring fireplace, “and the staff room is through this door. My door is always open to the teachers as well as the students, so please come to me with any concerns or questions.” She opened the staff room door. “Oh, good, some of your colleagues are already here. Everyone! Our new art teacher has arrived!”
Evvy still had her suitcase in her right hand, so she was forced to wave hello with the fingers of her left. She just hoped nobody took much notice of the scar which blazed across her palm. “This is Evangeline Trevelyan,” Josephine continued. “And here we have Dorian Pavus, our music instructor and librarian - Cassandra Pentaghast, ladies’ physical education - Solas Harel, sciences - and that back there is Gordon Blackwall, industrial arts.”
There was a general murmur of welcome. “Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you all,” Evvy replied. She hated being the center of attention, but under the circumstances she supposed there was nothing else for it.
“This is only about half the staff,” said the bald man identified as Solas. He had a benign sort of smile that was equal parts reassuring and unsettling; it was a strange combination. “I’m sure you’ll meet the others soon enough.”
“You’ve had a long journey, I think,” said the tall, elegant woman Josephine had called Cassandra. Her accent had a charmingly musical quality to it that made Evvy think she would enjoy listening to her speak often. “Josephine, is her room prepared? I can show her up.”
“Thank you, Cassandra, that would be very helpful,” said Josephine, even as the door opened behind her. Evvy turned, and felt herself grow scarlet.
The newcomer was a blond man with the bearing of one who had served in the military. His broad shoulders were housed in a beige suit, the kind with brown leather patches on the elbows, accented with an absurd necktie patterned with busts of former rulers of Ferelden. He’d clearly neglected to shave that morning, and he blinked at them all and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah - sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I think I left my reading glasses in here.”
“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached,” said Dorian, his stylish mustache quirking with amusement, “and then what would your admirers do? Here you are, I was going to bring them to your office on my way back to the library.”
“Right. Thanks.”
“Professor Cullen Rutherford,” Josephine said, gesturing to him as he turned to go. “Our history instructor. Cullen, this is our new substitute art teacher, Evangeline Trevelyan.”
“How do you do?” she managed.
“Oh - yes, of course. Pardon me.” He shook her hand quickly. “Please excuse me, but I’ve got to get to my class before young Miss Archer gets the idea to turn my desk upside down or something.”
Everyone else laughed. “You’d better run, man!” called Blackwall, and as Evvy watched, the history teacher decided to do just that.
“Sera Archer,” Cassandra explained, seeing Evvy’s puzzled expression, “is the resident troublemaker. Not a bad girl, but she gets bored easily and assuages that boredom by making everyone else’s life a bit difficult. You’ll want to keep an eye on her when your own classes start. Come; I’ll show you to your room.”
Cassandra relinquished her place in the corner of the staff room, but not before gathering up a book with a bright cover and stuffing it in her messenger bag. She cleared her throat as if nothing had happened and gestured for Evvy to exit the room first. As they departed, she led Evvy down a long hallway that eventually ended in an abrupt left-hand turn and a staircase.
“Your rooms will be up here,” she said as way of explanation as they climbed upward, “If you ever need anything, my room is the first on the left. Skyhold Academy is a big place, it can be easy to get lost. Hopefully your first impression is a good one, though, Miss Trevelyan.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this place,” Evvy admitted. “Have you taught here long?” The older woman seemed as though she knew it well.
“We all have. The entire staff has been here since the school reopened a few years ago,” Cassandra replied. She made a delicate sort of snort, a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “I cannot complain. Skyhold has been good to me, and Leliana – Headmistress Nightingale – a loyal friend. Before this, I was in the military. A few of us were, actually. Some of us even served together.”
“You were military?” Evvy repeated, surprised. “I - I mean, I don’t mean to sound incredulous. I come from a military family - most of us either serve in the military or enter a religious life. Occasionally both. I’m the first in a few generations to do neither.”
“Indeed I was… longer ago than I care to admit,” Cassandra said. Her words were jocular, and yet there was undeniable pride in her voice and she seemed to raise herself up higher when she spoke of her previous career, “It seems strange that so many of us have ended up as teachers.”
She rubbed the bridge of her nose absent-mindedly as they walked along, lost in thought for a moment. But soon she came back to reality with a tiny grunt. “I don’t envy you; bucking family tradition is not easy,” she said, glancing in Evvy’s direction. “What called you to teaching rather than a life of service, may I ask?”
“I was always drawn to art - that’s part of it,” Evvy said. A little shamefully, she lifted her left hand. “When I was younger, there was… an accident. I don’t actually remember what happened, but I was left with this scar, and my hand’s never been quite right. Joining the military wasn’t an option after that, and I didn’t think I had the patience for ministry. So I went to school for what I wanted. My parents aren’t thrilled, but I think they’ve accepted it.”
“As long as you do what is in your heart, that’s what matters…” Cassandra replied, and then almost immediately made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, “Ugh, I’m starting to sound like the motivational posters the girls in my class hang all over their lockers.” She shook her head, and Evvy chuckled.
They walked a bit further before stopping abruptly at a door. “And now, if I’m correct, this will be your room, Miss Trevelyan,” Cassandra said, gesturing. “Like I said, if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to reach out to me or anyone on staff. Josephine will be stopping by with your schedule at some point soon, I imagine.”
“Thank you.” Evvy hesitated. “If you don’t mind my asking - the history teacher - can you tell me about him? We didn’t get to speak much.”
“Cullen?” Cassandra asked, knitting her brow. “Well, there’s not much to tell. He and I served together for a few years, but we didn’t connect again until we both ended up here. He takes his job seriously - you’re lucky to catch him when he’s not working, honestly. But he’s good at what he does and the students like him well enough - some students like him a bit too much...”
Evvy couldn’t help but thinking that she could see why that would be. “I just wondered. He’s, um. He’s very... easy on the eyes.” She flushed. “Sorry.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes playfully, “Don’t apologize. You’re not saying anything I haven’t heard before - this is a favorite subject amongst my girls, believe me. And, as most of Skyhold Academy knows, while Professor Rutherford doesn’t like talking about his private life, that’s because there isn’t much of a private life to talk about. But I’m not one to gossip.”
Evvy flushed a bit deeper at that and cleared her throat. “I appreciate you showing me to my room,” she managed. “I’m looking forward to getting to know everyone.”
She extended a hand to Evvy with a small smile, “The pleasure is mine, Miss Trevelyan. I know everyone will be happy to get to know you, myself included.”
“Thank you. Just call me Evangeline, please. Or Evvy, it’s shorter.” She laughed and shook the other woman’s hand. “I’ll see you at dinner, I suppose.”
“Indeed. See you then, Evvy.” Cassandra smiled, before hurrying down the staircase with an unexpected grace.
The Skyhold dining hall was in the basement, which Evvy thought was interesting. There was an additional tiny library there, so ancient that almost nobody ever used it anymore, and a storage room where a number of curious collectibles were displayed on shelves. The staff arranged themselves at tables along one wall of the room, while the small student body occupied the rest of the space; Skyhold Academy being relatively exclusive, there were rarely more than one hundred students in attendance at any given time.
“Students, I’d like you to welcome Miss Trevelyan,” said the headmistress before the meal began. “She’ll be filling Ms. Hawke’s position as art teacher for the year. Those of you who will be entering the art contest will need to speak with her about your projects; try not to overwhelm her on her first day.” She smiled, a little impishly, and sat down again.
Evvy waved briefly at the students and then turned her attention to her food. She was seated between Dorian, who was very chatty, and Blackwall, who was not. Polite, yes, but not chatty. Cullen sat a little farther down the table, and she wished she’d find an excuse to talk to him at some point. Of course, their meeting had been so brief, he probably didn’t even remember her name.
“So - Mr. Pavus, was it? Anything I should know before I get started?” she asked lightly.
“Well, our students are very unique – give them some love and they’ll probably adore you forever. If you have any questions, just ask me. We humanities teachers need to stick together. And please, Mr. Pavus is my father,” he added with an almost artistic wave of his hand. “And neither he nor I would want to fall victim to being mistaken for the same person. It’s just Dorian to you.”
Her smile was sunny. “All right, Dorian it is. You can call me Evvy - it’s less of a mouthful than the full thing. Have you been here long?”
“Not as long as some of the others, but long enough. I won’t tell you exactly how long, though - I detest feeling old.” He gave a mirthful laugh. “I’m from further North originally, but the South is just so quaint and rustic, I adore it to little pieces - so here I am. And what of you?”
“Northeast, the Free Marches. My father’s a retired general in the Continental Army, and - well, it’s not important. I’m a few years out of university; I’ve been working in a craft supplies store while applying for teaching positions. Believe me, I will not miss retail.” She chuckled ruefully.
“Sweet Maker, I can’t say I blame you,” he said with a little shudder, “Well, hopefully everyone here is making you feel welcome. Miss Pentaghast didn’t scare the life out of you on the walk upstairs, did she? That woman can make even the simplest of tasks seem like a prison interrogation sometimes. Said from a place of love, of course.”
“Of course.” Evvy smiled, rolling her eyes girlishly. “No, I found her very pleasant. Everyone’s been very agreeable; it seems like a really nice place to teach.” She glanced down the table, secretly stealing a look at Cullen but pretending to observe something else. “The blond man - not the history teacher, the other one - he looks familiar. Who is he? I could swear I’ve seen him before.”
“Oh, don’t let him hear you say that, his ego will get even bigger than it already is,” Dorian scoffed playfully. “That’s Varric, creative writing teacher. Another humanities teacher with whom we should stick together... and yet he makes it so very hard at times.” He raised his voice slightly to catch the other teacher’s attention. “Isn’t that right, Varric?”
“I’m sorry, Sparkler, what was that? I couldn’t hear you, your clothes are too loud.” The shorter man shot him a derisive smirk.
“My clothes? Rutherford wears a tie with statues on it and we’re talking of my wardrobe?” Dorian shot back.
“Wait, Varric? Varric Tethras?” Evvy derailed the good-natured snarkfest with sudden recognition. “You’re the author of Hard in Hightown, right? I loved that!”
As the light of recognition dawned on Evvy’s face, Dorian placed a hand rather overdramatically over his eyes. “Oh no, there will really be no living with him now. It’s bad enough that that book always seems to be checked out of the library...”
Cullen seemed to have been pulled into the conversation by the mention of his tie, but Varric wasn’t giving him a chance to speak. “Always happy to meet a reader,” he said, leaving his seat briefly to shake hands with Evvy.
“The pleasure is mine. And... wait a moment – you know Sebastian Vael, don’t you? The hereditary Prince of Starkhaven? The Vaels are old friends of my family, he’s mentioned the connection,” she added, smiling.
“Choirboy? Yeah, I know Choirboy,” Varric said, rolling his eyes lightly. “We go back some.”
At the old moniker, Evvy looked to Dorian for an explanation. “As you can probably gather, Varric enjoys giving people nicknames,” he said dryly.
“You’ll have to give me a little while to come up with a nickname for you, though,” Varric added, nodding at her. “‘Has great taste in books’ is a bit of a mouthful, and I don’t know you well enough for more than that yet.” He studied her face for a moment, his gaze coming to her emerald-colored eyes. “Hmm... ‘The art teacher had eyes like the Waking Sea, dark and deep and stormy.’”
Startled, Evvy turned pink. “Does he do this often?” she asked Dorian.
“Oh, sweet Maker…” Dorian huffed. “More often than you would imagine. You should have been at last year’s end-of-year party when he treated us all to little snippets of writing about the staff. The lines about Bull don’t readily leave one’s mind.”
“Sparkler, if you can’t get Bull out of your mind, that’s not my fault. And I don’t really want details.” Varric winked at Evvy.
“Kaffas, you know that’s not what I meant!” Dorian tried to object, but Varric was already on to another topic. Besides, Josephine was giving him that look again, the one that suggested he was corrupting the student body, so he merely sighed.
“Don’t mind him,” the author was continuing. “Some people just can’t appreciate good descriptions. But don’t worry, I promise I’ll do you justice. Also, much as I hate to admit it, Sparkler, you raise a good point about Curly’s ties; we should take up a collection to get him some new ones. And maybe some taste while we’re at it.”
“Now that’s a collection I can get behind.” Dorian smirked, recovering. “How about a bake sale? We haven’t had a bake sale in ages. Or one of those charity car washes. I love those. Provided I’m the one doing the watching and not the washing, of course.”
“I love a good bake sale,” Evvy joked. “But does the Professor really have such terrible ties?” Quietly she hoped to get him to speak.
“He once wore a tie with nothing but historic ships on it, so yes,” Dorian responded.
“I’ll have you know those weren’t just any ships. Those were all ships from various battles that helped establish Thedas,” Cullen’s voice cut in.
“He acts as if that makes them less hideous, how droll,” Dorian fired back. But one look at Evvy’s reaction to Cullen’s sudden entrance into the conversation made him close his mouth. Oh, he wanted to see where this would go.
“Did they - erm - was the tie accurate? I mean - you’re a history teacher, so you would know.” She tried not to cringe at the stupid question.
“Yes, rather surprisingly it was.” He gave a small chuckle. It was a warm sound, the type made even more mirthful thanks to its rarity. “Finding historically accurate ties is not always an easy task.”
“You see, that surprises me, given how often I see you wearing them.” Dorian interjected, before biting his tongue once more. Sometimes Rutherford just made it too easy to mock him; but he forced himself to lean back and watch the beginnings of what had the potential to become Skyhold Academy’s favorite couple - well, if the lovelorn students that seemed to flock around Cullen Rutherford’s feet on a daily basis stopped crying long enough to see it, anyway.
Varric had returned to his seat when he ceased to be the focus of anyone’s attention, and seemed as amused as Dorian. Evvy was trying to ignore the sidelong glances both of them were sending in her direction. “My father actually has a sizable collection of military ties, himself,” she remarked. “If you like, I could get you a copy of the catalog where he orders them. They might have something to your tastes.” This is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and you are discussing his tacky neckwear. Congratulations, Trevelyan, you’re a complete ninny.
But Cullen’s eyes seemed to brighten at her suggestion. “Really? That’s... that’s very kind of you,” he stammered, rubbing his neck slightly. It made him look a bit like a bashful schoolgirl. “I look forward to that.”
Oh. He blushed. That’s adorable. Evvy coughed a little, and smiled. “Sure. I’ll write home and ask him to send the latest one when he’s done with it.”
Dorian turned to Varric with a slight sigh. “She’s encouraging your egotism and his crimes against fashion,” he said. “If I didn’t like her so much already, I’d say the Maker was testing me.”
Varric shook his head and muttered back to Dorian, “When I write this later, I’ll give them a more dramatic introduction. Outside in the sunlit courtyard, maybe. She can be picking flowers to grind up for paints in the old-fashioned way. He can be walking around with his nose in a book and almost trip over her.”
“You know, the fact that your books actually have readers makes me weep. Not just for my library, but for everyone else’s too,” Dorian countered. “Although, that does sound like Rutherford, doesn’t it? These two are absolutely made for each other and they don’t even know. What a travesty. I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
September 2021: Reader "lillibattenberg" created posters for the stories
in this series! This is the first one! Thank you! <3