The Lavellan clan is different than most dalish clans. The Lavellan people openly traded with humans and respected them, whilst still trying to preserve their own culture. However the clan used to be bigger sadly they had split up upon their belief and hate against humans.
It's in this clan that Feywen was born, when the clan was still big. Both of his parents were mages and his mother was the keeper of the whole clan. It was a disappointment and at the same time a relief when Feywen turned out to have little to no affinity with magic. However he was already looking at the few archer, picking up bow as soon as he could crawl.
He was around ten when the big fight happen. The Keeper wanted to break up the trade with the human as she was getting tired of the way they acted and by Mythal they never deserved that. However she didn't wanted to stop the trade like that, she wanted to sacrifice some of the warrior or mage in order to make the human responsible. Fight had begun to occurn inside the clan between two distinct party. The one that wanted to keep their good interaction with human and the one following the keeper.
Being a ten years old in a middle of a fight that he didn't really understood was harder on Feywen so he mostly sneak out of the clan to learn how to use a bow without asking anyone for help, not like they would provide. After all he was supposed to be the apprentice of the keeper but he didn't even had magic despite both of his parents being mage. A discrace. Maybe that was why his parents never really care until the 'war' exploded inside the clan.
One day, The Keeper violently pulled him near the biggest campfire when he was fifteen years old and asked him if he was ready to be adult. With the lack of response, she forced the young elf to look at her in the eyes saying that he had already killed his first animals and so was ready to be considerate as an adult. She had least let him choose the Vallashin before painting it right under his eyes to get the motif right. The pain was so intense that Feywen didn't remembered most of it. It was like fire licking his face and marking him. He couldn't even scream or cry because it would be a sign of weakness, a sign that he wasn't ready. He was afraid of how his mother and father would react if he disappointed them once again. So he bite on his tongue, feeling the blood exploded inside his mouth. He knew he should feel proud to have his Vallaslin earlier then the other, it proved that he was already an adult but the pain almost made him passed out. He begged in his mind the Creators to make him strong enough to stand the pain. He begged Mythal, Andruil and when he was on the verge of passing out, he caught himself to beg Fen'Harel.
When he opened his eyes, he finally felt something wet rushing down his cheek, he had guessed it was water to wash off the blood when his mother looked at him with much softer eyes. He felt himself smile until he realized what had just happen.
It wasn't really to prove he was an adult. It was that he became a warrior, his mother wanted to use him for her fight. It wasn't love. It never was love.
The next week, Feywen stayed with one of the elder elf inside the clan, she was a lovely mage and immediately cursed as she saw the Vallashin on such a young child. It wasn't what the gods wanted, she had said. It must have been Fen'Harel tricking them, she cursed.
Feywen didn't even wanted to answer and closed his eyes, locking up his heart, casting his emotions of pain, betray and sadness tightly inside his heart. They would never come out again.
Just a few weeks after, the fight broke down. His mother was screaming louder and louder each words escaping her lips, cursing at everyone saying she had lost her mind, that Fen'Harel was playing tricks on her. Even his father was taking distance from his mother. Feywen took a couple of step back, not wanting to anger his mother even more just waiting for her to calm down but when he saw her throwing a fire ball near the old woman that cared of him for years, he took his bow and fire before even thinking about it. The arrow lodge itself between his mother's eyes. He didn't even flinch even her lifeless body hit the ground. Instead he turned around and bowed before the old woman.
« Keeper. I suggest that we leave since we are well past our welcome stay. »
That how the Lavellan clan pulled apart when Feywen reached fifteen years old.
And here is it. Feywen back story. Or at least a resume of it. It might change a bit, might polish it into something better. Honestly it came inside my head after a nightmare ahah. I must have played too much Dragon Age this day. It’s very.. angst I guess? Not that bad but I am not so happy with the way I wrote it. Feywen dad is still alive somewhere with half of the other clan. Only his mother is dead that’s why they have a ‘difficult relationship’. His father hate him for what he done and all that jazz. Anyway. It’s just a small story. Feywen is a rather happy, gentle and compassionate person to be around. He even like to crack jokes and pulled prank.
