👀 Describe your OC through the eyes of another person! (For Errol or Dia, from the 25 OC Questions)
25 OC Questions
👀 Describe your OC through the eyes of another person! (bonus + specify who)
Lisenea often found herself watching her son sleep in the quiet moments proceeding dawn before her daily tasks finally demanded that she tear away her attention from him. The early light always found its way into their room long before the west-facing rooms would ever feel morning approaching. Today was no different. A beam of sun began inching its way down Errol’s head as if crowning him with a golden halo. His little eyes scrunched tighter, mother and child both seemingly resisting the call of the coming day.
He was so small her heart ached. He had enough of his father in him to catch Lisenea’s heart in her throat at odd moments (his smile twisting the knife in her heart ever deeper each time), but her little Errol had her blood in him too—too much, by all rights. Perhaps life would have been easier for them both had he been redwood rather than mulberry: tall and proud like his half-siblings, like a real Trevelyan. Like a real human.
Perhaps his life would have been easier had her blood been quieter and learned its place the way she had, but her little Errol has always had too much elf in him. After all, Lisenea’s own mother had been a real Dalish once, as she’d always said. Riel had been too proud to be cowed in the shemlen’s lands and it had cost her more and more until she had nothing but her life left to lose. Errol had inherited his grandmother’s red hair, curse the boy.
The sunlight speared its way through his thicket of thick lashes. Errol cracked his eyes open with a frown before his focus found his mother’s face floating above him. “Morning mamae,” he finally sighed.
Lisenea pulled him up into a fierce embrace and choked down the sob that threatened to bubble up out of her. Reginald Trevelyan’s dark bottomless eyes may sit in Errol’s face, but he was her son. He was her son. He was the only thing she had left and Trevelyan or not, Reginald’s eyes and blood and name or not, he was her entire world.
