#elhael

The Light Fae and Dark Fae are ruled by two separate entities. You can technically see them as being a King/Queen but they’re elected. Or chosen by the Council.

introducing: my daughter

At first Elhael is scared of Cole, he’s a spirit and he feels wrong - Cole notices and stays away but he can’t make Elhael forget like he can for most who don’t want to know him. As Elhael begins to recover he does approach Cole on occasion, asking the spirit’s opinion on things. Cole holds back the best he can from speaking Elhael’s pain because it hurts him and Cole doesn’t like that. 

Corvus fiddled with the collar of the shirt he was intended to wear for Halamshiral, feeling bothered by the materials. For quite some time he had worn his usual robes and sash, the fabric wearing soft over the years of wash. Now this stiff and almost irritating material scrapped against his rather delicate skin, leaving him uncomfortable from simply putting on the attire. Had it not been for the fact that he was needed for the mission - or so they insisted - he would have ditched the whole event. 

“You seem... troubled. Do you need assistance?” asked the soft voice of Elhael. 

The pale elf jumped a little, having not hear the other enter. “By the Creators...” he breathed. “No, I’m just... this fabric is rather uncomfortable.”

The other stepped forwards, touching the collar with gentle fingers, a frown tugging at his lips. “They put too much powder...”

As the smaller elf fiddled with the shirt to try and relieve some of the discomfort, Corvus looked over the simple yet elegant attire the other had been given. The colours were muted and soft, likely to allow him to hide away when the crowds got too much, yet still appeared regal and free.

“You look incredible in that...” he noted, almost absently. He looked down at the other when the hands stilled. 

For a moment Elhael looked down at himself, then off to the side as his hands fell to toy with the hem of his shirt. “It’s not...” He didn’t know what to say.

The elder gave a breathless laugh and very gently patted his head. “It’s a compliment Elhael, this attire suits you...”

There was more silence as the young elf looked around for a moment. Then he sighed, “Does the collar feel better? The rest should adjust as you go through the night...”

Solas was up late working one evening when Elhael came and sat on the small couch against the wall. Nothing was said between them for some time - some might even say the mage didn’t notice the young elf. Yet his attention was drawn when the other sniffled. He remained quiet as he approached and knelt in front of him.

“Hello Elhael, what’s happened?” He placed his hand on his knee. 

The former slave wiped his nose on the edge of his scarf. “It’s just that… Well, my favourite character just died…” He hugged the book in his other arm a little tighter, finger holding the page.

Solas couldn’t help but smile just a little. He reached up to stroke the other elf’s hair. “My dear friend, perhaps you’ve been up a little too late reading…”

The elf frowned and sniffled again. “But… it’s sad to have them gone… I wanted to see them through…”

The elder’s smile became a little sorrowful as he moves to sit next to him. “That is true… it’s never easy to lose one you’ve been invested in.” Something in his eyes became very solemn as he looked over the murals he had been paining. “Yet... we can only move forward, as time stops for few...”

Elhael looked up at the elf, gauging his expression and body, finding sorrow there but unable to search deeper. There was something in Solas’ past that haunted him, or perhaps it was his future that he feared. Carefully the scarred elf placed his hand on the other’s. His touch was gentle but welcomed as the other gave a gentle nudge against his palm.

“Ah, don’t mind me my friend, many things in the Fade are unchanging no matter what I wish to be so...” he said as he looked back down. “Yet, perhaps if we hold onto hope, what seems a set path may change for the better...”

Full Name: Elhael (????) Gender and Sexuality: Male/UnknownPronouns: He/HimEthnicity/Species: Tevene?? Native American??/ElfBirthplace and Birthdate: Tevinter/6th of HaringGuilty Pleasures: Rubbing his face against a soft fabricPhobias: Making others angryWhat They Would Be Famous For: Being the voice for the slaves at Dorian’s side when goes back to TevinterWhat They Would Get Arrested For: Being too precious!!OC You Ship Them With: None???OC Most Likely To Murder Them: !!!!!!! Nope!!!!!!!Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Anything?? (he never read much as a slave so everything is interesting)Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: The dog dyingTalents and/or Powers: Really observantWhy Someone Might Love Them: Because he is precious and would never hurt a fly and needs protecting.Why Someone Might Hate Them: Because they’re an asshole?? Or maybe because he relies on others so much he seems like a needy childWhy You Love Them: He is my precious little baboo and I wuv him! Okay, well, he’s the one character that is just quiet. He’s the quiet voice when everyone else is panicking that helps everyone to focus again. He’s the one that sees all the little things that the others might miss. And I love him.

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