trevelyan siblings inquisition au. companion!vepser & inquisitor!rosie trevelyan. 1.5k.
in the world where rosaline trevelyan emerges from the breach alive, hand glowing and newly contemplating a faith she thought she had left behind, vesper stumbles into haven at sunset near a week later, haggard and half-starved and leading a quartet of faltering apprentices.
rosie is gone when she gets there, ridden east to the hinterlands with her newfound companions, and so it is something of an unpleasant surprise when the mage apostate claims to be of the house trevelyan. there is much discussion among the inner circle (which is, at that point, only the advisors) about what to do with her, and the children, until the herald returns, and vesper politely offers to spend the night in the dungeon, because there is at least a roof for their heads and a thin stew for their bellies.
(one of the apprentices eats until she is sick, and vesper holds her hair through the night, keeps watch. old habits, you know.)
(one of them, sickly and frail already, dies in the night. all vesper can muster is hollow exhaustion.)
there are questions aplenty in the morning: who is she (vesper trevelyan, youngest daughter of bann raymond trevelyan of ostwick and lady valérie hirondelle of val chevin); where is she from (the circle at ostwick); why is she here (for the conclave); how is she alive (they were late on account of the apprentice’s illness and saw the explosion from afar); why have they come to haven (they saw smoke and sought shelter).
in the end, leliana finds her harmless enough, and she and the children are given meager quarters and a guard (for their protection or for that of the town is unclear) and allowed to wait for rosie’s final judgement.
(a sentence would be far kinder than waiting for the word of a sister she has not spoken to in some fifteen years, but that choice, like so many others, is not hers to make.)
she is lucky; rosie returns within the day with the good word of a chantry mother and a trio of companions vesper cannot in her wildest dreams imagine her sister willingly befriending. they all disappear into the chantry, and it is hours before her elder sister emerges.
it is one thing to be told chance has turned your sister into the last hope of the world; it is another to see it for yourself. as far as vesper can tell, all she looks is older.
it is not a pleasant reunion.
rosie is unfailingly cold, sharp-edged as ever. it has been a long, long time but vesper remembers her sister’s anger and the subtle cruelty of it. this, at least, is not the willful hurt of their youth. there is something more desperate about it, and vesper understands desperation like a native tongue, one they now share. in the end she is allowed to stay so long as she makes herself useful, so she does.
it is something of a comfort to be a hedgewitch rather than a rebel apostate, to put her skills to work as a healer, to craft complex wards to keep scouts and soldiers safe. the spymaster watches her work at first, and eventually wariness warms to quiet friendship. she takes a swift liking to the dwarf and his stories, and a shy liking to the commander. she learns a great deal from the elven apostate, about magic and the fade and living beyond a circle. she watches from afar as her sister collects followers and faithful as though she were andraste herself, and is oddly grateful to be near her through this.
when the time comes for rosie to choose a side and close the breach, her sister looks her in the eyes and elects to work with the mages in Redcliffe, and asks if vesper will come with. it is, vesper thinks, the first time they have truly seen each other in some twenty years.
(there is a long, forgotten year that follows, and vesper survives through burning anger long enough to send her sister back to try again. it is a good thing to forget those horrors. it is a better thing to be sure they never happened at all.)
a handful of mages march back with them, a vanguard to lend their aid in sealing the breach, and it is odd to be among them again, like wearing old clothes that no longer fit. she avoids their glances, walks quietly with the seeker instead and tries not to think too much of the knowing glances leveled at her.
“the herald did a good thing here,” cassandra says quietly as they bed down for the night, bone-weary. “perhaps you should speak to her of it.”
“my sister has never valued my judgement,” vesper tells her, bluntness born of surprise, but she seeks out her sister anyways. she finds her staring deep into the fire, and does not say anything as she sits, only offers silent invitation.
the trevelyan children have always been particularly good at reading each other. how else would they know where to hit where it most hurts?
(”you were so real,” rosie says when the fire is almost embers. vesper glances in her direction to see her staring at the burnished glow. the light turns her hair copper. “it was like a dream, but you were so real. you called me posie.”
it is an old, old nickname, and hearing it here, now— something catches in versper’s throat. but she has never been one to make a scene; she swallows it away.
“you all died, so I could come back.”
“you can end it,” vesper says quietly. rosie looks up.
“I know,” she says, and there is new-forged iron in her voice. it is strange to hear such decisiveness from her, from roxie’s shadow. perhaps they have both grown more than vesper has realized. “I will. will you stay?”
vesper had not even thought to leave. “yes.”
“good.” and she is quiet again. vesper finds herself smiling at the fading fire. a little care and attention, she thinks inexplicably, and it will roar back to life. there is something comforting in that.)
there are things to see to when they return, and vesper is relieved to escape the scrutiny of the mages and rosie’s companions alike. she watches from the chantry as her sister seals the hole in the sky.
the festivities are a nice change of pace. the attack is more of the same.
it is harder than she cares to admit to follow the commander, half wanting to linger in wait for her sister and knowing that this sacrifice will mean nothing if they do not flee.
the worst of it comes when her companions stumble out of the snow and smoke without her.
(there is magic, she wants to say, but the words stick in her throat, forbidden. there are magics of blood and binding she can do to find her, to find out if—
rosie stumbles out of the wind and snow hours after sunset and vesper’s relief leaves her shaking, and there is something awful about it, about caring so much and wanting it so little.
she is there when rosie wakes, and neither speak of it. there is far too much between them, around them, weighing upon them. there is far too much, and far too little time. some things must wait.)
skyhold is a comfort. there is something humming through the stone, some old magic that is almost familiar, and it is the most at home she has felt perhaps since she was a girl. leliana allows her a workstation to call her own off the gardens, and rosie brings her along now and again on her travels and it is— there is something free about it. something of worth. something far more fulfilling than she has ever imagined might exist.
rosie’s companions are a strange sort, and it takes her a long time to realize she counts among them, and that realization, more than anything, has her seeking out her sister, asking why.
“I don’t think we’ll ever fix it,” rosie says, and vesper does not need to ask what it is; there is bad blood aplenty between them, burnt bridges and thick walls. but there is trick with burning—fields must be scorched clean so life may grow fresh. “but maybe we can make it a little better. the whole world is changing, sister. I think maybe we can try to be better people with it.”
rosie, vesper discovers, is a leader she is proud to follow.
(she is right; it is not fixed, and some days they find their old soft spots and dig in until the whole keep simmers with that old, cruel bitterness. but some days are not all days, and slowly, slowly, they fill the space between them with something akin to friendship.)
(helene shows up at skyhold six weeks after they declare rosaline trevelyan inquisitor, and that is a whole new dynamic to this particular disaster, but this generation of trevelyans are nothing if not unpredictable.
besides. vesper’s a fan of anything that will leave father rolling in his grave. some battles are worth the sweat and blood, and she has missed having a family.)
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