Chapter Text
Neve Gallus was born in Dock Town, Minrathous, in 9:18 Dragon. She was the first, then the only, child of two dockworkers. The Gallus family was close-knit and warm. While they had little materially, they wanted for little so long as they had each other. Besides her parents, Neve was particularly close to her uncle, Omar, who tutored her and other Dock Town children in lieu of formal schooling. He encouraged her natural curiosity (and stubbornness) and never seemed to mind that she started asking too many questions about as soon as she learned to talk.
Whether conscious of it or not, the Galluses, like most Soporati parents, watched their child carefully for signs of magical talent practically from birth. They weren’t the poorest in their neighborhood, but they survived just below ‘comfortable enough.’ While all mages are not made equal in Tevinter, Neve being a mage at all would open doors for her that the other Dock Town children could hardly even dream of. What parent doesn’t hope for a better future for their child?
When her magic began to show, Omar did his best to help her foster it, but her talent quickly outstripped his ability to even fathom, let alone help to shape. By age ten, it was clear that Neve wouldn’t be limited to the party tricks, swindles, and teapot-warming magic that most Dock Town ‘mages’ were limited to. Lineage, wealth, status—these determine only much of a mage’s opportunities in Tevinter, not all. With proper training, a talent like Neve’s could be enough to pull the whole family up the ladder with her.
A quiet, jealous hope started to creep into her parents’ hearts.
If she were to reach her potential, she’d need a proper school. Like any hopeful Soporati parent would, Neve’s mother arranged a meeting with representatives of the Minrathous Circle. If she could impress them, she could earn a spot in a circle preparatory academy—one for lower and middle-class children, of course, but a foot in the door leading out of Dock Town regardless. Naturally, Neve succeeded, wowwing the mages with her effortless casting and raw power. Mother and daughter left with a school charter in-hand, and in that hour, Neve achieved more upward mobility than the Gallus name had known in generations.
This didn’t go unnoticed by their relatives; promptly, aunts, uncles, and cousins Neve had never met before crawled out of the woodwork, hoping to ingratiate themselves to her. Even her parents began to treat her differently. Neve loved it. She was spirited, stubborn, sharp—she loved being treated like an adult, and the pressure of expectation settled on her shoulders like her fancy new school robes. It was unspoken, of course, as none of them would be so gauche as to admit the whole family was riding on the coattails of a mage still with most of her baby teeth. She was frustrated that only Uncle Omar kept treating her like a baby , bringing her storybooks about the Wardens and their griffons and encouraging her to keep playing with the Dock Town children she’d started to turn away from.
Her parents and the other adults painted a clear picture of her future for her—and them, and she looked on it with clear eyes and determination. It motivated her to study hard, work hard, dream hard. She flourished in school, honing not just her spellcasting ability but her academics and social graces.
The first wrinkle in the picture came in 9:31 Dragon, when Neve snooped on the docks late one night, curious about rumors she’d heard in school about Tevinters profiting off the trouble in the South. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was a shock to observe the unloading of scores of Fereldan-accented elves in chains. She’d of course often seen slaves, blended into the background of Minrathous daily life, but she’d never doubted the story that most slaves are Tevinters who willingly sold themselves.
Realizing this great lie was heartbreaking, but by this time, she knew better than to question the status quo. She couldn’t help them—she could only help herself, and her newly gathered, big family.