the quiet tragedy of verin being the one who never quite made it out.
for most of their lives, essek was the one who was entrenched in expectations, in the politics of their den. while verin was stationed far from the heart of the dynasty, ostensibly free from the eyes of his elders, essek was sitting beside their mother in court and speaking before the queen. and it made sense, because essek had always been better at all of it — the posturing, the sweet-talking, the ladder-climbing. his brother the black sleep was still his brother the prodigy; his brother the heretic was still his brother the shadowhand.
but then, essek meets new people and they get through to him and change him and make him softer, make him better (and why them? what is it about them, that they could do what verin never could?) and he runs. he gives up the title and the status and the power and leaves it all (leaves verin) behind.
suddenly, verin is the lone newsoul of den thelyss, the one with all eyes on him, with the expectations meant for two brothers falling squarely on his shoulders and only his in the absence of their other target. he is still the youngest of his den, the one they all watch and wait to be disappointed by, but there is no one to share that burden with anymore and all at once it becomes painfully clear that distance never really was freedom.
essek has a family, then — not a den but a family, with love and trust and care and warmth and all the things essek once called verin childish for craving — and a welcoming home to go to with someone who loves him waiting there and a garden in the front yard, and verin is left still fighting demons under the banner of a god (of a family, of a home) he only half-believes in.
and maybe they see each other more often then. maybe bazzoxan is remote enough that it’s safe for essek to visit in disguise. maybe essek’s friends come too and are kind enough to offer a taste of what essek has now and verin can almost believe it’s his too. maybe essek doesn’t even fight it anymore when verin insists on hugging him. but how much can that really fix? how much can it really change?
an unloved man leaves no one behind when he finally makes a better life for himself, but essek was never an unloved man. not really.
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Den Thelyss Canon
c2e57: You can see people of the drow populace sitting and reading and paying strange attention to you. Once again, it's hard not to draw attention when you guys pass by with one of the members of Den Thelyss.
Essek, c2e62: Most of my den live within the Lucid Bastion.
Essek, c2e57: The den was very kind to accept me for one as comparably young as myself. I'm only part way into my second century, so.
Caleb: A great honor.
Essek: It is. Anyway.
Essek, c2e62: There's three primary dens, and a dozen dens all together.
Fjord: Biylan's not one of the main three, though?
Essek: No. Thelyss is one.
Essek, c2e91: My mother's name is Deirta Thelyss, she is the Umavi of my den.
Jester: Which den, Thelyss den?
Essek: Den Thelyss, yes. One of the multitude of dens.. shall we sit?
EGtW: The three ruling Dens—Den Kryn, Den Thelyss, and Den Mirimm—are each helmed by an Umavi.
Essek, c2e91: Den Thelyss, they would like very much to see.. our nation.. established and respected? In the broader sense of the world.
Wrap-up: The only real bond Essek had before any of you was with him, growing up. Verin was the brother that kinda got him and they got along okay, in a family that Essek did not get along with at all, and was surrounded by people he didn't get along with.
Wrap-up: He'd been a solitary figure his whole life except for his relationship with his brother. He didn't get along with his parents. He didn't get along with most people in the Dynasty unless they helped him maintain and advance his position of power and influence, and so.. you guys fucked him up!
Wrap-up: As opposed to his brother, who's very much eschewed the Dynasty culture, and his parents were very deeply steeped in the culture. Verin rides the line where, he understands, why his brother is the way he is, but he also believes a lot in the Dynasty, and the faith that the Luxon and the whole idea gives.
Essek, c2e91: There is an expectation of advancement within the faith to be consecuted. I was lucky enough and privileged enough to be born within a den to where it was not questioned.
Essek, c2e91: You are guided by an Umavi through a soul binding process. It is extensive, it entails a bunch of spoken rites. It is usually observed by many individuals of various dens, especially if you belong to one. And often when you are consecuted, you are given a path to a den. The families are expansive.
EGtW: Each Den traditionally oversees a portion of local industry, but more distinguished Dens also vie for control over aspects of spiritual or military leadership.
Fjord, c2e57: What do we call you, just Shadowhand? Or is there another name you prefer?
Essek: Shadowhand Essek Thelyss. Of Den Thelyss.
Jester: Den Thelyss is, like, the most popular one.
Nott: Sure, we know it well. That's one of the top three, is that right?
Essek: It is indeed.
Leylas, c2e57: Your deed here is noted and what quarrel you have with Lythir here is seen as absolved in the eyes of us three dens.
Waccoh, c2e62: There'd be a period of time in approving of his presence to ensure that there isn't any sort of Empire interests or muck behind the history there. After which we'd have to go and get approvals from Den Thelyss.
Caleb, c2e91: And you are, forgive me, on your first life?
Essek: Yes, I'm nearly the youngest of my den.
EGtW: Essek is both respected and feared for his intelligence and cunning, and he carefully plots each step he takes to further his and his Den's climb up the hierarchy of the dynasty.
EGtW: Verin Thelyss is the younger brother of Essek and the youngest soul of Den Thelyss. Recently given command of Kryn forces in Bazzoxan, Verin hopes to bring about a victory for the dynasty that will grant him respect and acceptance from his accomplished family.
Abrianna, c2e57: When one has proven their faith through word and deed, they are claimed by one of the ruling dens and taken to be soul bound to the Luxon through the consecution.
EGtW: Not all ruling Dens like the idea of introducing what they consider lesser creatures into the consecution, leading to tensions between the people of Rosohna and the scattered villages in the Xhorhasian wilds.
Beau, c2e91: What's the worst thing you've ever done?
Essek: (laughs, sighs) I would say... anger my father to the point where... he went, unprepared, into the depths of Bazzoxan and didn't return.
EGtW: The ruling class of the dynasty is seated in Rosohna, spread across twelve noble Dens—all of whom seek to one day rule the dynasty. They play an intricate political game by expanding their families of timeless souls and covertly undermining the authority of other Dens.
EGtW: Den Masters keep a careful eye out for weakness among other Dens, seeking ways to sully the reputations of their rivals while displaying their own worthiness to the Bright Queen. Such social sabotage is reminiscent of the old ways of the drow, but assassinations and acts of outright violence are rare.
EGtW: The oldest Dens, especially those helmed by an Umavi, are held in the highest esteem, and generally answer directly to the Bright Queen. The older the soul, the more prestige it holds in the dynasty.
EGtW: Within the Lucid Bastion's halls, the Bright Queen, her trusted Umavi, and their Dens work to govern and protect all citizens of the Kryn Dynasty.
EGtW: Beneath the Dens of Rosohna, guilds and Den representatives govern the other cities of the dynasty that stretch across Xhorhas, spreading the faith of the Luxon and watching over all Xhorhasians who seek the safety of civilization.
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things that, according to my headcanon, are objectively true:
essek spent over 120 years as a new soul speedily conquering the social ladder of a society that has no value for novelty and is heavily, canonically, competitive and “survival of the fittest”-minded. you can pick the drow out of the underdark like a zoo tycoon figure, but that won’t eliminate the fact that drow canonically have a harsh as fuck mindset about survival, as well as a pragmatic sense of familial structures. (the forgotten realms wiki was a great read on that and i still am in awe of matt mercer if he intended that subtle, yet meaningful connection.)
someone with essek’s intellect, though emotionally even less available then the average customer support hotline, would not be successful in what he does without being able to recognize flirting and utilising it in turn. so, i say: essek knows how he comes across, he knows what he looks like, he wields both of those things like a weapon in his arsenal. he is one of those people who can make you read everything into the tiniest bit of attention and then even more in the withdrawal of the same. he’s perfected the moth to flame thing without ever actually compromising his own need for personal space and solitude - too many risks in actually getting involved with someone. i say, he’s never had the slightest interest nor inclination towards an emotional or physical relationship, not only because he's demi, but because it was never of any value. he spent his whole 120-year-something-life without it and was fully fine with it. at most, he kissed two people as a teenager and decided it wasn't worth the hype.
until the nein fuck his life and his worldview up, enable him to actually consider other peoples needs and wants as a valid and important part of his universe, and basically create the foundation for him to consider a romantic and/or physical relationship as an option. imho, he could not actually have been genuinely in love with caleb during the whole of canon, because he didn’t even have the emotional capacity to fall in love - and when he does, his unique relationship with caleb just gains a new facet. there was attraction, yes, fascination, sure, but nothing he wouldn't have understood (and used to his advantage) before.
also. that man is so fucking touch starved. touch-famined. touch-bereft, if you will. once touch becomes an option, he’s probably to overwhelmed to ask for it, and when it’s freely offered, even more so by caleb, who is so. fucking. tactile, it takes him a loooooong time to recognize his need for it and express it. i’m convinced he’ll never be a particularly cuddly person. he’s more of a “intense hugs”-guy. his idea of a pet name is caleb's full name. caleb said "lifelong friends" after the end of their romantic relationship, but i'm convinced essek loves and is devoted to caleb in ways incomprehensible to somone who doesn't have his lifespan. to him, that relationship never ends, it just changes.
i fucking love sexy, seductive, manipulative spymaster!essek headcanons and fic, and i love demisexual-romantic-panic-120-year-old-virgin!essek fic. and i love "this human and our friends changed me fundamentally and my love for them is as intense as i am as a person"!essek, the neutral evil apple of my eye. i just love essek.
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Slowly but surely working on my Verinwulf fic! Have a snippet!
He doesn’t see Wulf for another month after that. The trees in Rexxentrum are largely bare of their leaves by that point and those that cling to their boughs have faded to shades of brown instead of the vibrant hues of flame Verin wishes he had come in time to see. The air is truly cold, the nipping bites of the late summer now a pleasant memory.
Pleasant memories are what Verin needs most now, what he hopes will best untangle the knot of rotting emotion that’s wrapped itself around his heart. Strong tattooed arms, the deep rumble of a Zemnian accent, the smell of incense—
Verin is so lost in thought that he nearly collides with Wulf as he leaves his house.
“Ach, watch where you are—” he puts a hand on Verin’s shoulder to move him backwards and then catches sight of his familiarly disguised face. “Verin.”
“Hey.” he breathes, leaning up to kiss him almost thoughtlessly.
Wulf lets him briefly, hand cradling his jaw one moment and pulling him off the next. “What are you doing here?” he asks, a furrow forming between his handsome brows.
There’s no bite to his words, only confusion and curiosity, but they still dig their teeth into the soft flesh of Verin's heart, sharp as his own fangs.
“I wanted to see you,” he says, falling back on the familiar in his heartache. “Isn’t that enough?”
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