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Nothing's Wrong

Summary:

Before he was Inquisitor, Camlen Lavellan was just another Elf in the Clan. As the Keeper's first he was well respected and liked. Loved by some, even! But this was before he was known as Camlen- when he still went by Briya. Coming out to the Clan and realizing who he was wasn't the easiest of experiences in the least.

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It was raining. Not that it was much of a surprise- there had been a lot of rain in the past several weeks, washing the rocks on the coast. Because of the danger it posed, The Keeper had demanded that all members of the clan were to stay inside their aravels for the evening. That, didn’t deter one particular young elf from sneaking out and exploring, however.

The teen didn’t care that the Keeper would want everyone to stay inside. Rain was only water, after all. A necessity for life! And the feeling of the little droplets, rolling down the face and down… Pure bliss. And a welcome one for the troubled elf. There was much to think about- too much. An escape was needed. Time alone. On the coast, the elf sat on a rock, watching the storm and ocean rise and fall. In the moment, it was almost possible to forget…

And the elf relished that. Spinning around on the slippery rocks, dancing and singing in the rain- It was perfect. The elf practiced magic, letting lightning burst from fingertips and dance around the hand. Electric magic was always a favorite of the child. The most fun to cast, anyway- especially during storms, when it was strongest.

Alone, everything seemed perfectly fine and happy. Even if it was lonely. There was no one to tell jokes to; not even animals in this weather. But it was a small price to pay for the time to be left in the security of one’s own mind. Able to think clearly, consider everything.

Recently, the young elf had begun feeling differently. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what it meant- the poor kid didn’t even really know how to explain it or describe it in the least. There was simply an enigma wrapped up in the mind. Something felt inherently… wrong. Perhaps tonight would be the night when everything could become clear.

Suddenly, the elf’s thoughts were interrupted by a voice. “Briya!” Someone called, another, barely older elf, running and panting, “Creators, Briya why did you run off? If the Keeper found out…”

“A-Adahlris! What are you doing here…? I didn’t think anyone saw me…”

Adahlris blushed. “I thought I should keep an eye on you. You’ve been acting really reckless lately, lethallan… If the clan lost the Keeper’s First apprentice... Well, I followed you out here to make sure you didn’t get yourself hurt.” He said, moving closer and reaching out, “What’s wrong, Bri-”

“Don’t call me that!” The elf smacked him away, backing up and staring at him, blue eyes wide in fear. Why had the name felt like a thorn in the teen’s heart? It didn’t make any sense. The moment the word had flowed, all happiness that came from the evening alone vanished.

Confused, Adahlris lowered his hand. “Lethalla-”

“No!” Hands cupped over the pointed ears as the elf sank to the ground and shook. Long dark gray hair falling to cover the face. “I don’t want… to hear those again. I wanted to be alone.”

“In this storm!? It’s far too dangerous here!” Adahlris exclaimed, “What were you thinking…? You’ve been acting so odd and different lately… I’m… I’m worried about you.”

There was silence for several moments. “… I’m worried about me too… But I’ll be okay. I just… Don’t like it when people talk about me.”

Adahlris sat down and gently reached out to touch the other elf’s shoulder cautiously. “Have the other elves been mean to you…?” he asked, “You know everyone loves you, B…” he cleared his throat. “If people have been talking bad about you, I’ll put an arrow right between their eyes!” Smiling softly, he hoped the sentiment would be welcomed.

“No… No one’s talking bad about me… It’s just… How do I explain this…? I’m… I don’t want to be called ‘Briya’ anymore.” The name tasted bitter, and showed on the elf’s face, “And… I don’t know… Everything just feels... like it isn’t quite right. Am I making any sense…? At all?”

“Um… Not really..?” Adahlris admitted, “Have you talked to the Keeper? It could be a kind of mind sickness! Like, two summers ago, when Hahren Mifen wouldn’t leave her aravel or eat but wasn’t sick to her stomach! Remember? Right after her husband died..?”

The elf remembered it quite well. Mifen’s husband had fallen to old age. “I don’t think it’s quite the same…” the elf admitted looking down and tugging at the long strands of hair resting forward, “It’s… more like something has gone wrong within me. I see myself in the reflections of the pond and I no longer see me. I see a stranger who looks, acts and talks like me. A beautiful girl with a charming smile… But she isn’t me. I… I sound mad don’t I?” There was fear underneath the tone of a sure voice, “I don’t want to go mad.”

Adahlris shook his head and pulled his clan mate up. “We should go back to camp. And you should tell the Keeper about this,” He urged, smiling softly, “I don’t think you sound mad, but I do think that the Keeper can figure out what is causing all this. Just… promise me you won’t keep doing reckless things like this, won’t you? Please?”

Sighing, the elf nodded and let Adahlris take them both back to camp. Dawn came quickly as they arrived, although the sunlight was barely noticeable through the clouds. The rain had stopped, blessedly, although the lingering clouds did not give much hope for a permanent recess.

The Keeper was waiting just outside the perimeter, a stern gaze glowing down at the two children. “Ah. Adahlris. Briya. I had been wondering where the two of you snuck off in such a storm.” She grumbled, “Briya, I expected better from you, girl. You know your importance to The People! Elven Mages are a scarce rarity… and a sacred one.”

Vir abealas!” Adahlris apologized, “But Briya has-”

“I can speak for myself,” the elf called Briya interrupted, sighing, “Keeper I… can I speak with you? In private?”

Deshanna blinked and raised a silver eyebrow skeptically. “Of course, da’len. We can discuss this in my aravel. Come, Briya. Adahlris, go back to training.” She stated, walking to her home with her First as the other young elf dashed away.

Once inside, the two Mages sat across from one another. “Tell me what troubles you.”

Taking a deep breath, the teen let everything spill out quickly. In a way, it felt good to get it all out in the open. But at the same time, it was terrifying. What will the Keeper think of me…? Will she send me away? Cast me out of the clan? I don’t feel right but I can’t put my finger on it I hope she understands

“Hm. And… You have only begun feeling like this recently I take it?” The Keeper asked.

“Not exactly. I mean, It’s only become something I think about a lot recently, but if I’m being totally honest I… I’ve never really felt… right.”

Nodding, Deshanna stood and retrieved a scroll of parchment. She sat down and opened it. “I see. Briya, you are reaching your fifteenth year. Although I have heard of children feeling as you do, they are typically much, much younger; by ten years or more.” She sighed, “But there have been records of children who are not the gender that they were thought to be at birth. In Elvhen they are called Telsashirallen. Telsashirallen elves go great lengths to make themselves, for all intents and purposes, live and appear to be the gender they are, rather than the one given to them when born. In some cases, not doing this can lead to unhappiness and reclusiveness. There has not been one in our clan for many generations…”

The elf sat up straighter, eyes of blue shining brightly as the golden flecks within twinkled. “That… sounds exactly like me!” The elf exclaimed, a feeling of deep reassurance, “I had never considered that… But to call myself a boy…!” That was the missing element in his heart. He could feel it now. It was right.

But the Keeper wasn’t convinced. “Briya, the only instances of this are seen in young children. Telsashirallen elves know what they are by the time they start dressing themselves and deciding how to style their own hair. You are far too old for this. You would have known sooner, da’len.”

He shook his head. “No, this is right. I can feel it!” He insisted, smiling brightly, “besides, just because it hasn’t happened before doesn’t mean it can’t, right? I have always been a bit of a late bloomer. It’s not impossible.”

Deshanna sighed and crossed her arms. “Perhaps. But I don’t think you should rush in to this too quickly.”

“Well, why don’t I just… try it? I can still fit in to the boys’ clothing and cut my hair short. I can pick a different name and see if it makes me feel any better!” He suggested, “What harm could that do?”

Letting out a deep sigh, Deshanna nodded. “Very well, da’len you may try this. But don’t shut out other options, alright? You may find that some in the clan won’t like what you are doing. Some will give you a hard time for this. Are you sure you can handle that, if it were to happen?” She asked.

Grinning, the Telsashirallen elf nodded. “You know me, Keeper. I’ll make it hard for them to dislike me~!” He hummed.

 

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Unfortunately, the months that followed proved the young elf wrong. Much of his clan simply refused to understand. The clan tailor wouldn’t sew any clothes for him and everyone rejected his pleas to cut his hair. Except for Deshanna, whom had agreed to do so reluctantly. He was told he’d never be married with what he was doing. No one would want a wife that looked like a man. They didn’t understand that that was an oxymoron in his case. But that was only when his clan even bothered talking to him. Most everyone had simply turned away when he came by.

After a while, he just stopped trying. He’d shut himself away in the Keeper’s aravel, resigning himself to the study of his people and the old magical ways. He found a kind of comfort in it, reading and learning about what was- practicing magic. But it was just a distraction.

It wasn’t a perfect- or even a good experience. But he managed. His one light was Adahlris. His old friend had taken the news in stride, and made sure that he was never locked away for too long. They’d run through alternate names together and Adahlris would lend him some of his clothes. They didn’t quite fit correctly, but the boys didn’t care. It was enough.

“Camlen?” Adahlris ventured, using the Telsashirallen’s latest name choice. He walked in to the Keeper’s Aravel, finding his friend sitting on the ground and pouring over an ancient tome- written in Elvhen he assumed. “How are you…?”

Blinking, Camlen looked up and smiled. “Better now,” he admitted, “Y’know, I think I like that name best. Camlen Lavellan. It just… fits doesn’t it? Still, Theris Lavellan would have been good too…” He shrugged.

Adahlris grinned, glad to know his friend was doing well. “I know it doesn’t matter, but Camlen is my personal favorite.” He hummed, “It feels right. Calling you Camlen.”

“Well, that’s good to know at least.” Camlen sighed, laying on the ground, “Do you think that the rest of the Clan will ever come around? I just… I wish they would. Is there something I need to do to prove to them I’m still me?”

“You could put on a comedy show.” Adahlris suggested, grinning, “By the end of it all, everyone will be laughing too hard to care! My offer to beat some sense in to everyone one by one is still on the table, too. Just say the word!”

That made him laugh, smiling softly. “Mm… I wish it were that simple.” He admitted, “I’m going to be their Keeper one day. I need them to like me. Or… at least tolerate me.” Camlen rolled over on his stomach and looked up at his friend. “At least I have you.”

“And you always will, Lethallin.” Adahlris promised, ruffling his hair.

“Adahlris?”

“Yes?”

Camlen hesitated. “Why were you so quick to just… go along with everything?” He asked, “I mean… Even the Keeper was reluctant to accept that this was me, but you… you just immediately did everything I needed you to. Without even a second thought.”

“Do you really need to ask? You’ve been my best friend since we were fledglings. Before we even knew you were a Mage!” Adahlris answered, “I wasn’t about to just… stop caring.”

“Everyone else in camp did…” Camlen grumbled.

Shrugging, Adahlris nudged him gently. “Then that’s their loss. You’re great! Everyone will come around eventually. I mean- just look how far Deshanna came. She’s finally gotten used to the idea that you’re right about who you are and actually remembers your name.”

“I guess so… Still. I miss talking to everyone. Making them laugh… I miss when people didn’t talk behind my back.” Camlen mumbled, “Sometimes it feels like they won’t see me for me ever again.”

Adahlris hummed softly and pat his back. “I know…” He sighed.

Deshanna came in and raised an eyebrow. “Adahlris. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” She said, turning her gaze to Camlen. “Have you finished reading the tome I assigned you for the day?”

 Camlen nodded and sat back up. “Yes, Keeper.” He replied, smiling, “I really enjoyed it!”

“Good, I think you’re ready to begin your training with the more advanced enchantments,” Deshanna decided.

That perked Camlen up immensely. Practicing magic was one of the few things he could still take pride in. And he was incredibly adept at it too, more so than the other mages he’d known. “Really? When can we start??” He asked, voice raising in pitch as he brimmed with excitement. He caught himself, clearing his throat quickly. “I uh… When can we start?” He repeated, only this time with a lower pitch. Manually trying to lower the pitch of his voice had been… difficult to say the very least.

“You’re doing really great with your voice,” Deshanna commented, smiling softly, “And we will start tomorrow. For now, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

Adahlris grinned broadly at that. “Awesome!” He exclaimed, looking over at Camlen, “You can come hunting with me and Miri! I get to see all your mystical Ancient Elvhen magic stuff, it’s only fair you should come and see what I’m doing!”

Deshanna raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s wise?” She asked.

“To be fair, Keeper, it’d be a nice change for me. A chance to do something different! If I don’t go I’d probably just end up staying here doing some reading or practice.” Camlen admitted, “Which… would be the opposite of taking a day off.”

“Besides, it might be good for Camlen to start mingling with the Clan a little bit more,” Adahlris pointed out, “Hard as it’ll be, I think that if Cam’s ready we need to really start having the Clan get used to him. He is going to be their Keeper one day, after all!”

“Hm. I see your point, Da’len. Just be careful. Both of you.” She said, then turned to Adahlris, “And don’t forget that your Vallaslin ritual will begin next month.”

“You got it, Keeper. I won’t forget!” Adahlris grabbed Camlen by the hand and pulled him out of the Aravel. “Onward!”

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