Evyn had solas remove her vallaslin because every time she looked in a mirror, she saw her mother who’s death she feels responsible for because she wasn’t able to stop her possessed step dad from killing her
Ghilan on the other hand did her vallaslin herself when she was in the Kirkwall circle, shortly after witnessing what she THOUGHT was Evyn murdering both of her parents. From Ghilan’s perspective, Evyn’s mistakes were all intentional and indicative of her abandoning the Dalish
☀️ What makes your OC genuinely happy? A person, an item, their hobby? Where is the place they’re happiest, or most at home? What is the happiest they’ve ever been?
For Hanin, seeing his squad genuinely succeed at something brings him a huge sense of pride and happiness. Not just because it means he has trained them well (although that is certainly part of it), but because he can see how much a win means to them. There’s not a lot that can compete with helping them achieve that.
There’s aren’t many places Hanin feels particularly tied to, emotionally. He likes being out in nature, but also in an open space (like a clearing or glade) so he can move about and practice his form like he used to when he was younger.
The happiest he has ever been would probably be when he completed his trial to become a warrior for Clan Lavellan, and Ghilan came forward to stand beside him during the final part of the ceremony. It was a position usually filled by a person’s parent(s), signifying their willingness to let their child become an adult member of the clan and stand equal to them. Hanin had been worried about that part of the ceremony, given he and his parents had no real relationship. But Ghilan didn’t even hesitate, and the subtle wink he gave Hanin set all his worries completely at ease.
“I’ll always be here for you.” for Ghilan x Hanin. Because I am a horrible person.
“I’ll always be here for you.”
Hanin glanced up, a flicker of surprise crossing his brow before he had a chance to wrestle it back into place. He regarded Ghilan, who sat by the campfire, his golden blade gleaming in the dancing light as it rested across his knees.
“Feeling… sentimental all of a sudden?” Hanin tried not to let his discomfort slip into his voice. And failed. So he reached out, warming his hands in the fire’s orange glow. He wasn’t cold. He just needed to do something with his hands. Busy himself.
Ghilan gave a soft chuckle. “Easy, da’len. You look like you’re about to bolt for cover.”
It was hard not to wince at the remark. After all, it wasn’t like he meant to…
“I just… don’t understand.”
There was something so easy in Ghilan’s smile. There always was, but especially now as he set Atisha down beside him and sighed, tipping his head back as though basking in a nonexistent sun. “What’s to understand? Seemed clear enough to me.”
He knew that wasn’t what Hanin meant. “Are you… leaving?”
“No.”
Hanin narrowed his eyes, his awkwardness quickly melding into annoyance as Ghilan all but reclined against the tree. “Then why say something like that?” he demanded after it became clear that Ghilan wasn’t going to divulge any additional information. “What’s the point?”
“The point?” At that, Ghilan cracked open an eye and fixed it on Hanin. Not coldly. Not indignantly. Just… watching. “There doesn’t have to be a point, you know. Not everything needs one.”
Not everything needs one?
Hanin sat still for a while, trying to work out what Ghilan’s… well, he couldn’t help but think point… was. After all, people didn’t just come out and say something like that unless there was a reason for the other person to doubt it. And Hanin never doubted it.
Not even once.
Ghilan, as though witnessing Hanin muddling clumsily though his own thoughts clear as day, gave a soft, fond huff. “Hey, I just want to make sure you know. That’s all. Don’t go giving yourself a headache over it, okay?”
But it wasn’t enough. Surely it couldn’t be that? It was… silly. Ridiculous, even, because…
“I do know.” This time it was Ghilan’s turn to glance up in surprise at Hanin’s voice. For his part, Hanin cleared his throat softly, that awkwardness that came with heart-to-heart conversations rising quickly to his throat. “So, just… you don’t need to say it.”
The fire crackled softly between them, filling a piece of the silence with something warm and comfortable. And the rest of the silence took its cue from it, stretching more like a blanket than a burden, wrapping around Hanin’s shoulders as sure as if Ghilan had sat beside him and draped an arm there. Every now and then, Ghilan tossed another piece of wood into the fire, sending a burst of embers into the air. They didn’t speak.
Eventually, as the campfire dimmed, Hanin glanced across to find Ghilan dozing awkwardly against the tree, clearly having nodded off between fire-stoking duties. Hanin took over wordlessly, watching the flames lick higher, pushing back the dark, bathing them both in a golden hue.
It was true. Some things really didn’t need to be said.
Soo...Yshaan has a twin brother that just arrived after the whole explosion at the conclave(His name is ghilan). He secretly left the clan and promised himself that he has to protect his little bro, even if it's the last thing he does before he dies. Of course his twin yells at him for leaving the clan without telling the keeper, but Yshaan quickly forgave him, and introduced him to his advisers and friends like Varric (possibly Dorian Although Ghilan noticed that the 2 were very into each other, and he can't wait to see his bro embarrassed after he tells Dorian of his childhood stories).
I'm marveling over your Elves again how are they all so beautiful... Anyway, are you in any mood to let us get to know Ghilan a little? In any way you like, maybe a little drabble or something? I just want to get a glimpse of what kind of person he was!
Sure! Here are just a couple of little things I’ve written about Ghilan from earlier: [1] [2]
And here’s another drabble (most under the cut)…
“Hanin, that’s enough. You’ve done well - take a break.”
Breathing hard, Hanin took another swing at the tree, his blade biting into the bark, tearing a line from its rugged exterior. His heart was pounding in his ears, thrumming maddeningly as his muscles screamed at him to stop. To swing. To stop.
“Hanin.”
A heavy hand fell to his shoulder, the weight suddenly grounding, solidifying the sensation of his feet on the earth beneath him. Shaking, Hanin felt his arms finally give out, the blade dipping until its tip dug into the dirt and leaf-litter, flecks of bark scattered haphazardly in the area around the base of the tree.
“I… it wasn’t right,” Hanin panted, blinking rapidly as sweat ran down his brow. “Wasn’t… right angle…”
The observation received neither affirmation or denial from Ghilan. Instead, the man just steered Hanin towards a fallen trunk, gently yet insistently pushing on his shoulder until the younger man finally relented and sat down. The next thing he knew, a waterskin was being pushed into his trembling hands.
“Drink. Creators, you’re sweating so much it’s a wonder there’s any water left in you.”
Following orders was easy, so Hanin drank, tentative sips morphing into deep, almost ravenous gulps as his body responded to the cool liquid. Slowly, the shaking subsided, although the ache in his arms proved significantly more stubborn.
All the while, Ghilan just watched him.
Eventually, Hanin knew he had to say something. “What can I do?” he asked, nodding to the tree. “To fix it. It’s not right.”
Ghilan arched one soft brow. “Oh?” He turned, clearly humouring Hanin, to examine the scratched up bark. “How do you know it’s not right?”
The question seemed silly. Simple. Hanin opened his mouth to give an answer but suddenly found that, despite the question’s simplicity, he didn’t actually have one. “I… don’t know,” he confessed, brow furrowing in frustration. “The cuts aren’t deep enough.”
Again, Ghilan turned slightly. “… No, they seem fine to me,” he remarked. “Try again.”
With anyone else, this would feel like a test. A form of humiliation. Something. But when Hanin didn’t offer another answer, Ghilan looked back at him, eyes bright, expression open and expectant. Just waiting. Patient.
The man never had a problem with patience.
The pressure off, Hanin focused on catching his breath, mind running back over what felt like endless hours of drills. Stances. Strikes and blows, footwork and angles. He realised, with mounting irritation, that they all seemed to blur together. Isolating where the problem actually lay seemed about as simple as picking out a specific blade of grass in an open field. He just… didn’t know where to even start looking.
“I… don’t know.” Admitting it was half the struggle with Hanin, and he knew it. If there was anything Hanin was acutely aware of, it was his own faults. “It feels like…”
When Hanin trailed off with a grunt, head hanging in a mixture of exhaustion and frustration, Ghilan moved in to pick up the slack. “You’re doing too much, Hanin. Too much all at once.”
Curiosity piqued, Hanin’s gaze flicked back up to his mentor. “What? How?” How could he be training too much? Was that even possible?
Sighing softly, Ghilan shifted from his crouching position to seat himself beside Hanin, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. Casual. Comfortable. A complete contrast to the rigid posture of his apprentice. “You grew up with the healers, right?”
It wasn’t really a question - Hanin knew Ghilan already knew the answer - but he nodded anyway. Smiling, Ghilan continued.
“When someone was sick, did they just give that person everything they had all at once? No questions asked?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Hanin frowned. “If they did that, they wouldn’t know what was wrong with the person.” He thought a bit more, then added, “And they also wouldn’t know what actually helped them get better.”
His answer seemed to satisfy. Ghilan nodded encouragingly. “Exactly.” Placing one hand on Hanin’s shoulder, he reached out with the other and pointed towards the tree. “Now, think about what you were doing today. Really think about it…”
He trailed off, leaving Hanin to follow the line of his finger. The angle of his cuts in the bark. The mess of dirt and broken sticks where his footwork had torn up the ground. The gouges to the right and left made in frustration as yet another swing went wide. It took time. It often did. But as Hanin’s gaze flicked between all these markers - all these things - realisation crashed into place with all the clarity of a bucket of water to the face.
“I need to focus,” he said, turning to Ghilan, seeking affirmation. “I won’t be able to work out what’s wrong if I’m not spending time on each part in isolation.”
A faint smile quirked up the corner of Ghilan’s mouth. “That’s right.” He gave Hanin’s shoulder a brief squeeze before returning his hand to his lap. “When you do too many things at once, or change too many things at once, you won’t know what actually needs fixing. It’s tempting to throw yourself at a problem until it resolves itself, but what do you really learn?” He nodded pointedly to Hanin’s hands, blistered and cracked. Self-conciously, Hanin curled them into fists, pressing them to his thighs.
“Nothing.”
There was a long, quiet pause. Not uncomfortable, but weighty. “Hanin, I know you want to make progress. Believe me, I understand. But sometimes…” Ghilan sighed and reached up, carding his fingers through his light-brown hair, sweeping it back from his face. “Sometimes you just need to take a step back. Breathe. Think. Give yourself a break, and come back with a fresh perspective. Pushing yourself the way you do… it won’t lead you anywhere worth going. You just need to take my word for that.”
Take my word for that.
With anyone else, Hanin wouldn’t have paid that kind of comment any heed. It was empty. It demanded his belief without any burden of proof. But as he glanced across and caught the expression on his mentor’s face, weary lines marring his typically bright and carefree features, the words suddenly gained weight. Merit. Importance.
Slowly, thoughtfully, Hanin nodded, his gaze drifting back down to his aching hands. “One step at a time,” he murmured, the words a familiar adage between them. Words Ghilan had said to him many times in the past.
The statement was met with a chuckle that was as warm as it was surprised. After all, it was a lesson Ghilan had been struggling to teach for months, now.
Now that winter break is here I'd like to get some more practice by drawing people kissing. So if your Inquisitor would like a smooch from Ghilan send me a picture of your Inquisitor with their name, pronouns, and sexually and ill draw Ghilan giving them a smooch. I will try to at least ink them all. I'll be doing this until the end of December. Ghilan looks forward to smooching some babes~
