THORIEL ⬩ drow ⬩ bard-rogue ⬩ entertainer

three houses of the edain ➴ house of haleth ➴ headcanon disclaimer

          Larnach was a woodman of Brethil who lived in a homestead outside of the main settlements of the Haladin. He and his family were harried by the Gaurwaith, and amid one such assault two outlaws separated Larnach’s daughter Thoriel from her parents and chased her into the woods. As she ran through a hazel-thicket in fear, another man suddenly appeared and rushed to her defense, killing one of her pursuers. Thoriel was glad for his aid, but astonished when the man appeared to recognize the corpse as Forweg, one of his companions. Her second pursuer then appeared, shocked at the scene.           Overhearing their conversation she learned their names were Andróg and Neithan. Thoriel demanded Neithan kill Andróg as well, but he refused her and sent her home, promising the Gaurwaith would harass them no longer. Frustrated and shaken, Thoriel returned home, where her parents were relieved to see her unharmed. Her mother, Doreth, marveled at her miraculous rescue, while Larnach was suspicious of Neithan’s true intentions.           When Beleg Cúthalion appeared on their property some months later, Larnach and Thoriel told him of her harrowing experience, allowing him to realize that Neithan was none other than his friend Túrin, whom he had been tracking ever since his flight from Doriath. Thanking them for their information, he warned that the orcs were growing ever bolder and that to protect his family Larnach ought to remove to Ephel Brandir where most of the Haladin dwelt. Though Larnach was reluctant to abandon his homestead, in the end Doreth convinced him to leave, for even if wolf-men such as Neithan could find pity in their hearts toward girls like Thoriel, orcs would have no thoughts of mercy.

6. something written by your OC in response to an honor they’re being awarded - for anyone?

An unsent letter found crumpled and partially burned in the hearth of The Iron Bull’s quarters above the Herald’s Rest tavern. The handwriting matches that of Inquisitor Tyla Lavellan. Some passages are difficult to make out due to the ink running and burnt portions.

Hearth of my Youth,

I trust the Clan is well. The coming winter looks to be unforgiving this cycle, so I’ve sent what supplies Lady Montilyet would let me spare to you. I hope you know my heart travels with them. Would that I could give more, Lady Montilyet assures me any more will be seen as a bias by the human nobility.

Gods, Thoriel, the humans! They are fickle and unforgiving as the frost in these forsaken mountains. Every day I spend here, I feel as though I’m falling deeper into their machinations. Will I be able to pull myself free when all this is done? I pray Mythal guides me back to you one day. If She listens to me now.

Does the clan think differently of me these days? The Nightingale doesn’t like to tell me, this much I know, but she must think it’s important to tell me. I know some of our family-clans speak my name in ire. Much as I loathe it, I am a figurehead for the humans’ Chantry. The Orlesian Chantry has officially made me an Exalted - whatever that means outside of their smothering beliefs and faith. I cannot breathe in these walls, surrounded by their pyres and martyrs.

They say I’m theirs’ now, an image of Andraste reborn. They even sent a letter, as though this parchment lays claim to me. If I die here, I will surely be stolen for their symbols of sacrifice. Will they make statues in my name? With my ears cut short and the staff ripped from my hands? Will they wash my devotion from my face? Will Falon’Din find me when they’ve scrubbed me clean to their standards?

I know He will. I hope He will. I know in my heart that I am still faithful, that I am still of the People. So why, Thoriel, does every step down this road feel like a step away from the Dalish? Why does it feel as though everything I do to stop this madness strips me of who I am?  I am so far from home and comfort and everything I know.

It is selfish of me, and yet I almost with this war would end. For better or for worse, I don’t care. I want to leave. I want to come home. I don’t want to be dancing to the humans’ songs, smiling at those unkind eyes, letting them lead me down and away from everything I am. I’m so afraid, Thoriel. What if I cannot return from here? What will be left of me when the humans are done?

I’m scared. I do not know what to do. I do not think the Creators can hear me here. I am alone.

Missive ends unfinished. Scrawled in the margins are notes in another hand, translating difficult phrases from Evhen to Qunlat. Ink discoloration indicates the notes were written prior to its attempted destruction.

Inquisition Codex Prompts

Thoriel was different, though. Sweet and gentle, yet there was a little of her mother in her, too.

We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind;

BALDUR’S GATE 3 ▸My Original Characters (insp. by @onewingedangels)

⊹ THORIEL, THE TWICE-BLESSED

And when exhaustion and pain drained the last remaining strength from her body, the realization kicked in. It was over. No matter how hard she tried, no matter the sacrifice she was willing to make, nothing could change it. Her past self would’ve been furious, horrified at the fact that this was how she'd die. After everything she had survived, the great hero of Baldur’s Gate would fall to this? Yet, Maleane didn’t have enough strength left in her bones to care. Everything around her was fading, like a handful of sand slipping between her fingers; the chaos of the room, the midwife’s voice, the weight of the druid’s hand on top of hers. Slumber was calling out her name and Mal wanted nothing more than to rest. To be done with all the pain and horror and heartbreak. And so, despite every single person around her pleading otherwise, she laid her head down on the blanket, let her knees rest on the carpeted floor, and then, as the final chord to the melody, closed her eyes. When Maleane woke, she was still in a dream. Nothing changed. The tent looked exactly the same, but motionless, like a painting with a varnish of silvery white light washed over it. The night was bright and pale like the face of the moon, and for just a brief moment, Mal felt at peace. And then the pain pierced her insides once more, this time filling her with determination. Clinging to the newfound hope, the drow gathered just enough strength to push, again and again, until relief finally found her battered body. And then came the most beautiful music she’d ever heard. A soft humming of the harp, entwined with the resolute shriek of a newborn child. Her own blood.  

The vampire lord had first requested the pretty bard delivered to him and only changed his mind when informed about her kin. “Perhaps the Stormbringer is more useful,’ he remarked, “though, the moth would definitely brighten this dull affair.” A coin toss between selfishness and ambition was all that separated Thoriel from the grim embrace of undeath.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 + names

ages ago @sorceresslodge tagged me to make my ocs in this and i finally did it! the hair options weren't that kind to my girlies, but i made it work somehow.

Maleane ⛈️ Giltine 🩸 Artemyra Waycrest 🗡️ Thoriel 🎶

tagging: @communistfries @vspin @euryalex @tadpole-apocalypse @silver-horse @minthara @alistairs @dameaylin @mynthara @haarleps @deimcs @aezyrraeshh @aevallare @zevlor @hawke @carrionsflower @rosenfey @phasebun @togepies @hartsvale & everyone that wants to do this 💖

hi so i'm a bit behind on the mal lore why do her and astarion break up? and who's baby is thoriel?

Hey! No worries, Mal's lore only makes sense in my head at the moment, especially the whole post-game stuff!

But what happens is that Maleane spends decades traveling the world with Astarion, both of them sort of getting to finally live and experience everything that they couldn't before. However, at some point she starts getting tired of being on the road all the time, not having any sense of home, and she starts longing for that. Sense of home. She has no family, no community, so the closest thing to the concept of home is her little cabin in the middle of the woods.

Astarion, on the other hand, has no interest in settling, especially in some forest, away from civilization. Naturally, tensions grow and they start bickering over their future plans. Astarion's grown quite dependent on her magic for traveling and protecting him from the sun, so he sort of reluctantly agrees to return 'home' with her, thinking that it's going to be a short term thing and she will eventually realize that it's boring as shit to just sit in some log house in the middle of nowhere.

Unfortunately, Mal's problem is much deeper than simply longing to return to a physical place. It's tied to the realization that she doesn't really belong anywhere. No family, no community, no connections, not even a place or a setting with familiar faces. And that stuff eats her from the inside. This sort of marrow-deep sadness and longing that Maleane can't place a finger on, and when you can't identify the problem, you can't really deal with it, right? Especially when it's a problem that doesn't have much of a solution.

The sadness that doesn't leave soon turns into frustration, especially with Astarion constantly nudging her to go back on the road. He uses her promise to help him look for a cure to his sunlight sensitivity as a leverage, but that absolutely backfires and one night they have a massive fight over everything where Astarion, frustrated with what he sees as a childish pursuit of 'home', tells her that she's chasing something that does not exist. Of course, he doesn't do that in the nicest way, absolutely bringing up the fact that both of her parents are gone and that no one's waiting for her. He's the only person that she's got.

Mal, hurt by his words, in the heat of the moment when emotions are high, decides to bite back and says something that she knows would hurt him. Even if it's a lie. She brings up his own 'childish pursuit' of being able to walk in the sun and tells him that if only she'd known how annoying he would be about it, she would've allowed him to ascend. Of course, saying that is a double whammy because not only does it undermine one of the defining moments of his life, it also implies that he had no say in it and that she made the choice for him, stripping him of agency.

That lowkey turns his anger and frustration into murderous intent and the only solution he sees in that moment is to leave. He's done with her.

For a brief moment, Maleane is pretty satisfied with the fact that she found a way to hurt him back. And yet with days passing, the lie eats at her. But he's going to return, right? He still loves her, right? He'll get over it and they'll talk about it and she'll explain how it was a lie and apologize, right?

Not really. Astarion doesn't return and years pass with Mal's depression just growing deeper and deeper as she's living alone in the woods, just like all those years before the tadpole. The heartbreak, as well as such a deep-set loneliness, leaves her feeling hollow. So, during one of those desperate nights, Maleane has a bit of an epiphany, and it clicks why her mother never allowed her to leave. Because if Mal had left, Ashe would've been all alone. Just like Mal is now.

So, Maleane realizes that in order to not be alone anymore AND return to the closest thing she knows as 'home', the drow decides to just get a baby. Her own lil kid that she can raise and cherish and all that. It makes sense in her depressed lil skull.

Mal ventures to the closest town, finds a tavern, drinks a little, until a pretty silver elf catches her eye (listen, she's still very much not over Astarion) and one thing leads to another. And hey! The bun's in the oven, lmao.

Maleane is Thoriel's mother. Her biological father is just some random pretty one-night stand. That, of course, doesn't mean she ends up with zero daddies, but that's for the future dfsfsdf

thinking about my girlies and halsin

little thoriel, doomed before she could ever taste fresh air on her lips. before she could see all the beautiful colors of this world. destined to suffocate in her mother's womb. to kill her as her first and final act. god's favorite little doll. with such a weight settling on her tiny shoulders the moment her eyes opened to a stream of silver light illuminating the room. what should she do with the gift of her own life? surely, she can't waste such an enormous favor?

and mal, oh poor mal, for just a brief moment resigning to death. she would never admit it, but for just a second, she didn't just accept death. she welcomed it. and while both of them were saved, it didn't change her heart. it didn't change the pain. in fact, at first, it all felt worse than before. there were times she could scarcely look at thoriel, her precious little child, her almost-killer. maleane felt like she was rotting from the inside, a bone-deep sickness that was slowly consuming her. worse than that, it felt like the corruption spread around her, poisoning the waters. but she didn't care who drank from the well. none of these people mattered to her. but she couldn't harm the druid. the thought of hurting him filled her with despair. is this what love felt like? maleane had already forgotten what that was.

and halsin? the gentle, kind halsin with a foreign sort of sadness locked behind his brow. with a heart that doesn't stir so easily. yet, it stirred for her. it was pointless to deny his feelings, as they had all resurfaced the moment he'd set his eyes on her. what sort of leech did he invite into his bed? but he'd seen her kindness, the power to break centuries old curses. she can be different. not like the rest of them. she's different, right?

i mean let's come on, just look at her!!!

she's just so babygirl i'm weeping

thinking about astarion, years and years later, lowkey experiencing some pangs of regret (ik ik, him?! but i'd like to think that he matures quite a bit and does something more with his immortal existence than just being a selfish hedonistic prick. sue me)

and an idea came to me. years after above the vaulted sky, when he spends more time with thoriel (who, i think, influences him a bit more than he'd like to admit), he sort of absent-mindedly watches her perform at some inn for a quick buck, it's late in the evening and his mind starts going places. astarion catches a glimpse of thoriel, singing and dancing, effortlessly charming everyone around her, an easy smile and a cheeky wink on her face, and for just a brief moment he thinks how she could've been his. how, in a different time and a different place, maybe he could've been a different person, a better one. mal would tell him how she didn't know how such a different person, so much good spawned from someone like her. where did it all come from. but it happened. so, maybe it wouldn't be different with him as well?

and even if she wasn't a child of his seed, maybe he could've been more present? bit his pride and selfishness, kept it clenched between his teeth and accepted something he didn't want, maybe that was the right choice? he would've had more time with mal. maybe he would've grown to love the girl quicker. maybe he had the capacity to grow into a different person, a better one. for them.

maybe maleane would be alive.

but it's a passing thought. a childish prospect. and while he did become a little softer because of the pink moth, he thinks even those ideas are a bit too optimistic. so he pushes them away behind something more familiar, something that feels more like him. and yet, astarion doesn't completely abandon them.

baby!! babygirl!!! my absolute treasure!!!!