As the summary says, just a bit of an expansion on what Lavellan mentions about her clan in Crystal White!

Twisted Violet

The Keeper was so certain this place was safe. Kiriel was starting to doubt her more and more with each step further into the ruin. It did not feel even the remotest bit safe.

Shadows like twisted figures danced over the walls in the poor light, the air stale and rank. Her bare feet caught on twisted roots and plants that broke through the weathered stone lining the floor and vines hung from the ceiling. Jutted into the wall at intervals were braziers long since extinguished, but the hunters with her lit them with fire to brighten their way. The flickering flames did little to calm her nerves as they splashed and twisted more shades around the corridor.

She shouldn't have let the hunters convince her to come here, Phaeris was a terrible influence over her yet even as she glanced at him and caught the hair bleached blond by the sun in the firelight, it only filled her with warmth. Almost as if he felt her gaze upon her he glanced and caught her violet eyes, thin lips tugging into a smile as his hand reached for hers. He leant closer, brushed against the curve of her ear and whispered with his breath tickling over his skin, "Come with me."

She followed because she trusted him and she longed to spend time away from prying eyes. At camp was never exactly private, and even if all they'd ever shared was fleeting glances and the hold of another's hand, she knew he wanted her and she him.

Through dank and musty tunnels he led her, the light of his torch the only thing that broke the darkness until they reached an empty room and he secured his torch in a bracket on the wall. The ceiling was cracked and broken and it let in shafts of light and fresh air. She breathed deep and longing, filling her lungs with the crisp air the dilapidated room offered her after so many minutes spent pulling in stifling dank breaths in the corridors.

It was a gentle hand on her hip that made her turn and the moment she shifted Phaeris caught her in his arms. With a smile tugging at his lips he linked his arms around her waist, his blue-grey eyes bright and confident that it gave her the strength to run her hands up his chest.

Head bowed her gaze followed where her fingers led until her arms were curled around his neck and her violet eyes caught his own. It was he that moved first. Years spent as first to the Keeper had made her shy and hesitant because she was used to wasting away hours studying history and magic, not talking and relating to other people.

Yet Phaeris had always been understanding, found her awkwardness endearing and it felt right when he pressed his lips to hers. It was slow and fleeting, barely a shadow of what a kiss could truly be, but for their clan it was the sort of gesture that would make others expect a lifelong commitment between the pair of them.

When his forehead adorned with Andruil's bows pressed to hers, their noses rubbing and a smile staining both their features, he whispered to her, "Marry me, Kiriel."

She agreed and it was in the shafts of light pouring through the ceiling that afternoon that they became promised to one another. For moments that seemed to stretch for hours they embraced, their gazes only broken with short fleeting kisses against the others lips.

It was minutes before they were interrupted, and they heard it with keen twitching ears far before the people intruding on them burst into the room. Slipping effortlessly from Phaeris' arms, and she felt hollow and cold to be without them, Kiriel's gaze landed on two humans who stared at them, shocked and with dumbfounded looks plastered over their features.

The humans were holding hands, their features flushed and reddened and clothes half undone that what their intentions in coming into the cave had been were painfully obvious. Perhaps they'd thought it was abandoned. In truth it had been until Kiriel's clan set up camp nearby a few days ago. In their silence the human's gaze travelled over the elves adorned features, caught the curve and twist of the tattoos that marked them so clearly as Dalish.

It was Phaeris that moved first, his lips curled into a grin for how the humans jumped and edged away even when all he'd done was flex his fingers. "Boo."

And the humans went fleeing with their clothes still not properly done up through the corridors of the ruin. Later, when Kiriel and Phaeris caught up with the other hunters, they would laugh at the way the humans scrambled and fled the ruins as if they'd seen a ghost.

It was the softest of silks against her skin, purple and embroidered with gold and the Keeper wrapped it around her wrist.

Beside the fire at camp Kiriel was bound with Phaeril before the witness of their clan. The material curled around her hand and arm, and then so too over his, linking them together and making it official. A sign to the rest of them that they would be wed at the earliest convenience, that they would be together for life and one and another's love.

Through slow and graceful movements they led one another in a dance before their kin, the firelight reflecting off their hair and eyes as they held the other's gaze. The dance was not strictly necessary, but it was tradition and it held weight in its meaning and significance. Then, as they moved out of the last steps and faced one another once more, the Keeper smiled, soft and gentle, her aged features showing the wisdom and kindness of decades.

With her hand, the Keeper held onto the fabric where it bound them together. A small burst of magic unleashed from her fingertips and it seared through the silk, separating them once more and cheering echoed into the night air from their kin and family.

Pulling her into his embrace and pressing a fleeting kiss to her forehead, Phaeris held her as her head pressed against his chest for minutes. The fabric would stay around their hands until they wed as a sign of their promise to one another.

If it were removed prior, it was tantamount to declaring the relationship over.

For so long that night before falling asleep she stared at the fabric around her hand. At the intricate gold embroidery that ran in patterns over the silk, she traced her eyes over every curve and line before exhaustion claimed her.

When Kiriel slept she wondered the Fade as she'd done for so many years. With no direction at her fancy, she went where her dreams took her, her only intentions that to not stray into the domain of demons lest they try and corrupt her.

She was neither at home in the Fade nor unfamiliar with it. The unnatural ground beneath her feet and tingle of magic across her skin simply was. Neither good or bad, and she couldn't really change her dreams entirely. Her force of will might have let her run from demons and resist their possession, but she couldn't twist the scenery at her whim and far less thought such a thing possible.

That night she wondered through a forest with trees black as night. If not for the wisps that floated in the air casting blue light over branches and leaves, she wouldn't have seen anything. Yet she was not scared or afraid, like so many other nights, she told herself the Fade simply was and none of the whispers or glinting yellow eyes between the trees were truly real. She would have known if they were, sensed the demons preying on her from miles away.

Her lax attitude stopped her from catching onto the beast that preyed on her that night. In her youth the wolf of pitch black fur and red eyes had stalked her relentlessly, but hardly more so than any other in her clan. It was to be expected, and it had taken little tutoring from the Keeper to mask herself from the Dread Wolf's hunt. It happened to everyone, and she was no more special than any other that he'd stalked her.

But to feel a hot wet breath breathing down her neck that night was far different. Like a wild animal, his mouth reeked of blood and hunger. At first she stilled, her body tensed and disobeying her until his hands started to run over her arms. Nails sharp and clawlike dug into her flesh, daring to draw blood but never strong enough to break her skin and she knew who he was before she'd even turned to face him.

Fen'Harel, less as the beast but rather the man himself towered over her, his lips pulled from his sharp teeth in a predatory sneer. Muscles rippled under the taut skin he displayed through poorly done up robes and he would have been attractive, had his features not twisted into a look that made her sick to her stomach. He looked like he wanted to sink his teeth and claws into her flesh, rend her apart until his thick hair was coated in her blood – and if not that, then possess her and use her body to ruin her clan.

And he was fast.

It wasn't even a proper motion, as if his hand glided through the Fade and materialized with his fingers gripping at her wrist. Holding her hand in the air he glowered at the ribbon bound to her. He was furious as he spoke, his voice filled with dark envy that chilled her to the core and made her fumble for words.

"Who gave you this? You are already spoken for."

She couldn't give him an answer, her throat seized up on her, choking and failing to give him the answers he wanted. Still she tried to hold her calm, to not give in to the fear that was curling around her like thick dark tendrils clawing for purchase.

It came in a flash of a hand curling around her chin and then he was upon her. There was no hesitation, no consideration or holding back. He pried her lips open with uncanny grace, shoved his tongue into her mouth and kissed her with such want and lust that her eyes widened in shock as her fingers scrambled for purchase against his robes.

His skill and forward affections filled her with so much desire that it stunned her and she didn't push him away in the slightest. It was only when he broke the kiss, sucking on her lower lip for a moment before pulling back that she pieced together what had truly happen. With flushed features and the taste of him still in her she clamped a hand over her mouth, horrified and stepped back.

Yet he didn't pursue her, his features only twisted into malice as he yanked away the ribbon binding her hand.

"This does not belong on you."

When he slipped into the form of the beast and howled, long and deep, the fear was enough to pull her awake with a jerk and sweat covering her flesh.

For weeks longer the nightmares persisted and they showed no sign of relenting or easing in their torture. The Dread Wolf's presence became worse each evening, his mouth finding hers every time her eyes shut and it got to the point where Kiriel feared sleeping.

Evenings were spent trying to keep herself awake to spare the disgust at feeling the enemy of their people curl his arms around her back or cup her face. Exhaustion took her after a while and her eyes were sore and bloodshot during the day, her thoughts muddled from her lack of sleep that it was only a matter of time before Phaeris took her away from camp to question her behaviour.

He held her hand, his fingers squeezing hers reassuringly but it made little difference. She'd suffered in silence for a reason, and it was because the shame of who stalked her dreams scared her of what her clan might think. But perhaps in him he would understand. It was to a stream that he led her, knelt between flowers and tufts of grass and he cupped her hands in his, his eyes trained on her features and trying to read the anguish that was bothering her.

"You're not sleeping well," he pointed out after several minutes and her head bowed towards the ground, her fingers twisting idly in his to distract herself because she couldn't bring her gaze up to meet his.

"I am... dreaming of the Dread Wolf again," she started softly and his brow pulled into a frown. Yet despite it, a soft reassuring smile tugged at his lips and it gave her the confidence to meet his gaze and wonder, perhaps, if he might understand.

"Everyone does," he told her. "It is hardly something to be ashamed of."

"It is-" A moment's pause as she tried to find the words that failed her so much. "It is not the same as the other times."

What gentle smile on his features had been there moments before, vanished in a split second to hesitant curiosity and suspicion as he replied carefully with, "In what way?"

"I dream of him kissing me, touching me." Her brow pulled into a frown and she bit at her lip. "Of him ripping the engagement cloth from my wrist and saying that I am his. That I am his-" a choking noise in her throat that cut off her speech for a moment before she added, in barely more than a whisper, "Queen."

"You dream of being bonded to-" his eyes flashed with what she later realised was a mixture of disgust and horror, "To the Dread Wolf?"

It was a soft and silent confession that slipped from her lips. "Yes."

And he stood. Recoiled from her, pulled his hands from her touch and backed away. It twisted her features into hurt, brought tears to her eyes and she begged with him when she whispered, "Phaeris, please I never-"

"No one dreams of him like that, not even a First," he breathed and his features were twisted in disgust and anguish. "He's tainted you."

Moments later he was gone. Alone, abandoned and exhausted from her struggle, the tears started to fall.

It took her hours to find the courage to return to camp and even then she was hesitant, hurt and scared at what she might find. The whispers where the worst, the sidelong glances the rest of her clan gave her the moment she stepped close that told her they all knew. Her shame, that the Dread Wolf had tried to corrupt the First of their clan, and maybe even succeeded.

Judgement was all they offered Kiriel, and each stare and hushed whisper was like a dagger raking over her flesh but the worst came when she approached Phaeris beside the fire pit. Surrounded by the other hunters his age, it took him a long painful moment to even acknowledge her presence, and when his gaze flickered to hers his eyes were narrowed and features set hard in determination.

"I never accepted anything," Kiriel started brokenly, "I always pushed him away, did everything the Keeper taught me-"

"Not even the Keeper dreams of being bonded to the Dread Wolf," he whispered and the way he emphasised the word it was as if it was painful for him to utter it, a reflection of the contortion into distress that his features took.

As if steeling himself, he pushed the sadness from his features, gritted his teeth and it was then that everything she had left in her to break shattered. He grabbed at the cloth bound around his wrist, ripped it off and as if holding her gaze to emphasise his point, he cast it to the ground where it fell into mud and dirt.

Neither of them needed words to describe the significance of the action. Their engagement, everything, the trust, love and promises – broken. As if anyone would ever want her again when they knew what she'd dreamt of.

It didn't even bring tears for she had nothing left to give. Instead, it only found anger in her, her fists balling in rage as she ripped her own cloth binding from her wrist. Magic, uncontrolled and sparking at her fingertips, lashed out at the man who'd sworn that he loved her. It cast him back, slammed his back into the dirt and drew a gasp from his lips and shocks from their on-lookers.

Kiriel gaped at her own outburst, clamped her hands over her mouth with wide eyes in horror at the knowledge she'd attacked one of her own. Seconds later a firm hand was grabbing onto her arm, the Keeper dragging her from camp before the shouts and branding of traitor started from the rest of the clan.

Away from the others she was taken until alone in the forests the Keeper turned to her and sighed, deep and frustrated.

"Why did you say nothing, da'len?" the older woman started, her aged features annoyed and pulled into a frown. "Did you not think I would help you, that you ought to suffer alone?"

"I did not think anyone would-" she started but the words died in her throat and she scowled furiously at the ground. "Would you cast me out the same as the rest of the clan wishes? Leave me to the wolves like the one who haunts my dreams?"

"Of course not." A hand rose to cup her cheek and Kiriel sighed, pressed her eyes shut even as the Keeper continued gently. "They are only scared for it is all they know, to fear the one who ruined everything and the thought he might have influence over you."

Violet eyes opened to stare at her, helpless and begging. "He does not."

"I know that, da'len, and I will show you how to force him from your dreams."

She did. Over days and weeks the Keeper taught Kiriel to mask her scent from the Dread Wolf. But nothing healed the way her clan looked at her as if she was tainted and vile. Years passed that she was free from dreaming of Fen'Harel, but the clan never forgot.

And they never looked at her the same again.

The Keeper sent her away in part to stop the arguing. Where the rest of the clan hated and loathed her, the Keeper still trusted Kiriel and the decision to send her to the Conclave was two-fold.

It was to send her to spy on the dealings there that were of interest to the people, but also in large part it was to remove her from the clan so that the arguments and tension might dissipate if only for a time. The Keeper had persuaded one of the hunters in the clan who was at least indifferent to Kiriel to join her, but it came as a surprise when Phaeris insisted on going as well.

They didn't discuss his presence at all on the journey to the Conclave. In silence they camped, the unanswered questions for his company thick in the air and painful. The answers, however, she received if only partially in time. And it was not in any manner she wished they'd come.

Kiriel had been curious, hadn't realised he was following her and she'd stumbled into the room knowing full well she shouldn't. The scene that she interrupted changed everything, and for more than the mark it brought on her flesh.

Phaeris yelled to her, drew her attention as the orb touched her fingers and the burst of magic it brought seared through the room like a shockwave.

"Kiriel."

She turned, found where he stood behind her and her lips parted even as the heavy cloud of magic enveloped both their bodies. Her hair whipped at her features, his own braid pulling undone from the force of power around them. It looked like the Fade, and yet it didn't at the same time, as if worlds were crashing together and the only constant was him standing before her, terrified and concerned.

"I always loved you," he started, and perhaps he knew then that the way the magic twisted and moulded around his body meant he would not return from this alive. "I'm sorry."

In a split second he was gone, lost to her just like everything else that the spell consumed. She was the only one that pulled herself out alive from the Conclave. And he was the only part of the explosion that she remembered.

His screams in the Fade haunted her dreams for weeks and she never forgot what he'd meant to her, even when she remembered everything of her past.