Feyre's existence was one that was not exactly planned, and though there were bouts in which she felt unloved, there was never a time when she herself felt she was an accident. Aside from the discovery of a terrible bout of food allergies that could not very much be helped, Feyre's years as a toddler were fairly normal. Initially, her religious parents (pillars of the community in Elvenesse and self-proclaimed zealots of the Aspects), as they'd dotted on her and thought of her as a 'blessing', having thought they would not be able to have any children. She was given whatever her little heard could have desired then, and essentially treated as a princess by her family.
Feyre was too young to remember any of this.
She does remember being five years old, sitting on her kitchen floor, playing with a doll, and her father coming home late at night, drunk. She does remember hearing that he had been laid-off from the job he had worked so hard for and that he had fallen back to his old gambling habits. It only took her father three months to blow all of the family's savings on his downward spiral. Their house had to be sold to pay off some of the debt that has amassed, as did many of their other possessions.
Feyre spent the majority of her childhood being passed off to familial acquaintances while her parents worked odd jobs by day, and sought out strange ways of mina by night. The longest she stayed at anyone's house was four months. She attended school until the age of eight, when teachers began questioning how she seemed to wear the same clothing every day, ate little to nothing at all, and occasionally wore purple and blue bruises on her face. All through these years of being treated more as an object than a person, Feyre kept her mind sharp by smuggling books in and out of the houses she lived in; she never did need school to realize that she had above average intelligence.
Eventually, Feyre's family got into a great deal of trouble with the law. She lived alone in a shack for some two months while her parents were in jail, just barely making it through another terrible winter. She was seventeen when they returned and moved the trio away to a small shack on the outskirts of Talon's Port, where they were unknown and less likely to get into any more trouble. She finished schooling there and spent the four years there in torment, yearning for more -- for adventure and purpose. Like the elves of ages past, Feyre took to the woods in the night, wishing for a new life and a way to leave the other one behind.
Now, she's found her way to home to Elvenesse and is eagerly seeking a way to make a name for herself amidst the ever-changing political sway...
Feyre returns a lopsided smile. "Well, I've decided I'd like to make something of myself," she begins, gesturing about the grand markets with a bit of a twirl, " - and I've been told this place is ripe with potential." She teeters to a pause and offers a cordial, if lazy curtsey. "May I know your name, so we can be properly acquainted?"

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