As the son of High General Halamar Gerard Wolf, Javan's entire existence has been categorized by following in the footsteps of his own father. He was born into an aristocratic lifestyle, his family second, perhaps, only to the former ruling family of Haltbent. House Wolf had made a name for itself by serving dutifully as the knights and warriors of the land, protecting the kingdom for generations upon generations.
Naturally, Javan felt an obligation to follow suit, and he trained tirelessly as a boy to hone his skills, his natural-born talent with a blade, an inherited trait he had, no doubt, received from his ancestry. The youngster had a knack for the art of fighting, and thus was permitted to train amongst the more elite squadrons and battalions, long before any of his peers had even set their feet in the sands of the training circle.
As the time passed, Javan grew, both physically and mentally. He soared through the ranks, earning honors and titles, ranging from "Blessed of the Blade" to "Silent Killer" (a personal favorite of his, actually). He served in multiple squabbles and raids, always returning from battle despite disbelief from those around him. The man just couldn't die, it seemed. Some men may have thought themselves invincible -- immortal, even -- had they had such luck as Javan; though, he hardly seemed to take pride in such. Why should he be proud of surviving, when his men's bodies lay strewn across the valleys and hills, their blood soaking into the earth unceremoniously? Why couldn't he have died in their place?
Such thoughts were what led the man to question his life choices, to decipher what he was even doing with his life. Was this all there was for him to live for? Was his existence doomed to be spent killing and avoiding Death? And this, my friends, is when Javan met the woman who would change his life forever. Eris Fable Kestrel.
Javan met Eris through a chance encounter at some noble ball of some sort; he still can't quite remember the specifics of the location nor a majority of the night's events. Not that it matters, for the only memories he has of the dance are those he deems most important: the young lady's eyes, crimson as rubies, and glimmering like gems; her skin, fair and delicate as the breast of a dove; her curled locks, white and silken as alabaster. It took not much more than a few glances, a few bats of her dark lashes, a few gentle caresses of his arm, to have the nobleman hooked. It was not long after that Javan professed his love for the Lady Kestrel, and asked for her hand in marriage. Never mind the chiding of his father, who thought the woman was after nothing more than the superior title; never mind his mother's disapproval, having heard less than stellar word of the young lady's disposition; never mind his brother's warning, to watch his back and never sleep without a knife beneath his pillow. Javan knew he could live without his family's consent; what he could not live without was his beloved. And, so, he married her, in a fool-hardy move that would prove painstakingly mistaken in the long run.
Once married, Javan found himself to be the happiest man alive. He regained his vigor, having found a new reason to survive, to keep going. Again, he began blasting through the ranks, soon holding the same title as his father had as High General, and subsequently becoming the Head of House Wolf. During this time, Eris conceived and bore him two children -- twins, in fact. A girl and a boy. It didn't matter to Javan that his offspring had been created in a most unorthodox way (through in vitro fertilization, due to Eris' refusal to be bedded, which her husband respected), for they were his babies as well as hers. While the tikes grew, Javan found himself partial to the eldest of the pair, the girl-child named Vasta Leif, for she was the stronger. It was an oddity, to him, that Eris seemed to be more favorable of their son, Calder Eric, for he was hardly the one with a warrior's soul. But, again, Javan could hardly care; he had his family, and they were being loved in their own part. Finally, it seemed he had found perfection. Finally, he was the vision of absolute excellence. The perfect son; the perfect noble; the perfect warrior; the perfect husband; the perfect father. From the outside, at least.
As the years passed, and his family grew, things began to slowly fall apart. Javan had taken it upon himself to raise Vasta -- his eldest, his firstborn, his beloved baby girl -- into the perfect warrior, such as he had become. In the process, he spent less and less time with his son; though, the boy hardly seemed to mind, as he was always under Eris' watchful eye and loving wings. At least, that was how Javan excused his actions. It was still a surprise to Javan that his wife, an ever proper woman, had even allowed him to train their daughter in the ways of a knight, as Eris was a stickler for gender normalities. But the man was grateful to her, and made sure to let her know, expressing his love and utter devotion for his wife -- all of which were easily stepped upon. For Eris, he knew, did not love him in return. It was this fact that crushed his soul and spirit on a daily basis, driving him further and further from his family. He had nearly reached his breaking point when things took yet another turn -- for the better, it seemed.
It was no surprise that the nobles had been less than agreeable with the current ruling family's decisions in how to run their kingdom. Javan had noticed that an uprising was close at-hand, and, at first, prepared his men to protect their kingdom at all costs. Until -- how quaint -- his dear, darling wife got a hold of him, convincing him that the royals didn't deserve the throne, that they were hardly the right rulers for Haltbent. That they should rule. And that was how Javan found himself storming the castle, ordering his men to take control of the fortress, while his daughter cut down any potential heirs to the throne, and wife and son saw to it that the reigning king be taken care of. Once the deed had been done, it seemed only natural that Javan would take the headstrong position as King, and Eris his Queen beside him. Though, as you may have guessed by now, Javan hardly seems to take the natural path of life.
Instead of claiming the glory and the power, Javan stepped back, allowing his wife -- born a Kestrel, a lower-ranked House than his own, and a woman -- to become the true leader of Haltbent, handing the title and the status of royalty to her House solely, leaving the Wolf family as mere nobles -- albeit high-ranking, but non-royals nonetheless. You can imagine just how Javan's family reacted to such an action. Their protests fell on deaf ears, as Javan was too consumed with his love and complete adoration for Eris to take heed of their words. To keep up appearances, Javan took the title of King, although in all reality, his position was more of the Queen's consort than that of an equal ruler. The man then took the surname of Kestrel -- an action that brought further outrage from his House -- and subsequently stepped down from his position as Head of House Wolf to rule Haltbent alongside his wife.
After a few years, things had changed all the more, and not in Javan's favor. His Queen still loathed him; that much was evident. His daughter remained every loyal to her father, but she had grown distant, disdain for her new title of 'Crown Princess' causing her to drift away from the man who had caused such change to happen. His son ignored his very existence, much too consumed in literature to pay the man any attention, reversing their roles of neglect so that now Javan was the one without attention. But, of course, Javan put on the brave face, a smile ever plastered to his lips, and played the game of Life. A game he was rather skilled at, after so many decades of pretending, to a point where he could hardly recognize the man he had become. Years of turmoil had taken their tole, chipping away at Javan's soul, darkening his spirit, pushing him to the brink of madness.
Until recently, when his world came to a sudden halt upon a new development.
A development that was so earth-shattering, it seemed it would rip the fabric of Time itself.
Eris' admittance of her love for the man.
It did not come suddenly, as Javan's had. Instead, it took at total of twenty-one years of marriage -- twenty-one years of heartbreak, of pain, of tireless patience -- for Javan to hear the words uttered from the woman's mouth. It came after a drunken night of passion, in which he broke down before his wife; it came after a following series of nights filled with the man's love for his Lady; it came after multiple attempts at talking and truly getting to know each other, after more than two decades of being nothing more than strangers living within the same home. After having assured his Queen, his light, his life, his ultimate love of his absolute, utter devotion for her, she finally reciprocated the feeling, allowing herself to fall in love with her husband. And, as you can imagine, Javan couldn't possibly be happier. Further think of his delight, when it was revealed to him -- despite it being in the least of lovely circumstances (after a heated argument) -- that his beloved wife, who had just recently begun to love him, too, was expecting his child. A child made with love, with affection and caring and warmth.
But, of course, with every beam of happiness comes a stroke of sadness to tone it down. Calder, Javan's only son, continues to spite and berate his father, as vengeance for nineteen years of neglect. Meanwhile, Vasta, just recently, was demoted from her rank as Crown Princess, and is currently living in the Knights' Quarters in an attempt to distance herself from her family -- including her precious father, whom she partially blames for her downfall. Despite these occurrences, Javan is determined to become a better father, and has vowed to treat this soon-to-be addition to the royal family with the utmost care and love, to make amends for his past grievances. Now, he can only watch, wait, and pray to the gods above that he follows through.
Naturally, Javan felt an obligation to follow suit, and he trained tirelessly as a boy to hone his skills, his natural-born talent with a blade, an inherited trait he had, no doubt, received from his ancestry. The youngster had a knack for the art of fighting, and thus was permitted to train amongst the more elite squadrons and battalions, long before any of his peers had even set their feet in the sands of the training circle.
As the time passed, Javan grew, both physically and mentally. He soared through the ranks, earning honors and titles, ranging from "Blessed of the Blade" to "Silent Killer" (a personal favorite of his, actually). He served in multiple squabbles and raids, always returning from battle despite disbelief from those around him. The man just couldn't die, it seemed. Some men may have thought themselves invincible -- immortal, even -- had they had such luck as Javan; though, he hardly seemed to take pride in such. Why should he be proud of surviving, when his men's bodies lay strewn across the valleys and hills, their blood soaking into the earth unceremoniously? Why couldn't he have died in their place?
Such thoughts were what led the man to question his life choices, to decipher what he was even doing with his life. Was this all there was for him to live for? Was his existence doomed to be spent killing and avoiding Death? And this, my friends, is when Javan met the woman who would change his life forever. Eris Fable Kestrel.
Javan met Eris through a chance encounter at some noble ball of some sort; he still can't quite remember the specifics of the location nor a majority of the night's events. Not that it matters, for the only memories he has of the dance are those he deems most important: the young lady's eyes, crimson as rubies, and glimmering like gems; her skin, fair and delicate as the breast of a dove; her curled locks, white and silken as alabaster. It took not much more than a few glances, a few bats of her dark lashes, a few gentle caresses of his arm, to have the nobleman hooked. It was not long after that Javan professed his love for the Lady Kestrel, and asked for her hand in marriage. Never mind the chiding of his father, who thought the woman was after nothing more than the superior title; never mind his mother's disapproval, having heard less than stellar word of the young lady's disposition; never mind his brother's warning, to watch his back and never sleep without a knife beneath his pillow. Javan knew he could live without his family's consent; what he could not live without was his beloved. And, so, he married her, in a fool-hardy move that would prove painstakingly mistaken in the long run.
Once married, Javan found himself to be the happiest man alive. He regained his vigor, having found a new reason to survive, to keep going. Again, he began blasting through the ranks, soon holding the same title as his father had as High General, and subsequently becoming the Head of House Wolf. During this time, Eris conceived and bore him two children -- twins, in fact. A girl and a boy. It didn't matter to Javan that his offspring had been created in a most unorthodox way (through in vitro fertilization, due to Eris' refusal to be bedded, which her husband respected), for they were his babies as well as hers. While the tikes grew, Javan found himself partial to the eldest of the pair, the girl-child named Vasta Leif, for she was the stronger. It was an oddity, to him, that Eris seemed to be more favorable of their son, Calder Eric, for he was hardly the one with a warrior's soul. But, again, Javan could hardly care; he had his family, and they were being loved in their own part. Finally, it seemed he had found perfection. Finally, he was the vision of absolute excellence. The perfect son; the perfect noble; the perfect warrior; the perfect husband; the perfect father. From the outside, at least.
As the years passed, and his family grew, things began to slowly fall apart. Javan had taken it upon himself to raise Vasta -- his eldest, his firstborn, his beloved baby girl -- into the perfect warrior, such as he had become. In the process, he spent less and less time with his son; though, the boy hardly seemed to mind, as he was always under Eris' watchful eye and loving wings. At least, that was how Javan excused his actions. It was still a surprise to Javan that his wife, an ever proper woman, had even allowed him to train their daughter in the ways of a knight, as Eris was a stickler for gender normalities. But the man was grateful to her, and made sure to let her know, expressing his love and utter devotion for his wife -- all of which were easily stepped upon. For Eris, he knew, did not love him in return. It was this fact that crushed his soul and spirit on a daily basis, driving him further and further from his family. He had nearly reached his breaking point when things took yet another turn -- for the better, it seemed.
It was no surprise that the nobles had been less than agreeable with the current ruling family's decisions in how to run their kingdom. Javan had noticed that an uprising was close at-hand, and, at first, prepared his men to protect their kingdom at all costs. Until -- how quaint -- his dear, darling wife got a hold of him, convincing him that the royals didn't deserve the throne, that they were hardly the right rulers for Haltbent. That they should rule. And that was how Javan found himself storming the castle, ordering his men to take control of the fortress, while his daughter cut down any potential heirs to the throne, and wife and son saw to it that the reigning king be taken care of. Once the deed had been done, it seemed only natural that Javan would take the headstrong position as King, and Eris his Queen beside him. Though, as you may have guessed by now, Javan hardly seems to take the natural path of life.
Instead of claiming the glory and the power, Javan stepped back, allowing his wife -- born a Kestrel, a lower-ranked House than his own, and a woman -- to become the true leader of Haltbent, handing the title and the status of royalty to her House solely, leaving the Wolf family as mere nobles -- albeit high-ranking, but non-royals nonetheless. You can imagine just how Javan's family reacted to such an action. Their protests fell on deaf ears, as Javan was too consumed with his love and complete adoration for Eris to take heed of their words. To keep up appearances, Javan took the title of King, although in all reality, his position was more of the Queen's consort than that of an equal ruler. The man then took the surname of Kestrel -- an action that brought further outrage from his House -- and subsequently stepped down from his position as Head of House Wolf to rule Haltbent alongside his wife.
After a few years, things had changed all the more, and not in Javan's favor. His Queen still loathed him; that much was evident. His daughter remained every loyal to her father, but she had grown distant, disdain for her new title of 'Crown Princess' causing her to drift away from the man who had caused such change to happen. His son ignored his very existence, much too consumed in literature to pay the man any attention, reversing their roles of neglect so that now Javan was the one without attention. But, of course, Javan put on the brave face, a smile ever plastered to his lips, and played the game of Life. A game he was rather skilled at, after so many decades of pretending, to a point where he could hardly recognize the man he had become. Years of turmoil had taken their tole, chipping away at Javan's soul, darkening his spirit, pushing him to the brink of madness.
Until recently, when his world came to a sudden halt upon a new development.
A development that was so earth-shattering, it seemed it would rip the fabric of Time itself.
Eris' admittance of her love for the man.
It did not come suddenly, as Javan's had. Instead, it took at total of twenty-one years of marriage -- twenty-one years of heartbreak, of pain, of tireless patience -- for Javan to hear the words uttered from the woman's mouth. It came after a drunken night of passion, in which he broke down before his wife; it came after a following series of nights filled with the man's love for his Lady; it came after multiple attempts at talking and truly getting to know each other, after more than two decades of being nothing more than strangers living within the same home. After having assured his Queen, his light, his life, his ultimate love of his absolute, utter devotion for her, she finally reciprocated the feeling, allowing herself to fall in love with her husband. And, as you can imagine, Javan couldn't possibly be happier. Further think of his delight, when it was revealed to him -- despite it being in the least of lovely circumstances (after a heated argument) -- that his beloved wife, who had just recently begun to love him, too, was expecting his child. A child made with love, with affection and caring and warmth.
But, of course, with every beam of happiness comes a stroke of sadness to tone it down. Calder, Javan's only son, continues to spite and berate his father, as vengeance for nineteen years of neglect. Meanwhile, Vasta, just recently, was demoted from her rank as Crown Princess, and is currently living in the Knights' Quarters in an attempt to distance herself from her family -- including her precious father, whom she partially blames for her downfall. Despite these occurrences, Javan is determined to become a better father, and has vowed to treat this soon-to-be addition to the royal family with the utmost care and love, to make amends for his past grievances. Now, he can only watch, wait, and pray to the gods above that he follows through.
Key:
(m.) = male
(f.) = female
italics = deceased
(m.) = male
(f.) = female
italics = deceased
Javan Shai Wolf-Kestrel (m.)
Age: 47 years
Race: elf
Affiliation(s): House Wolf (by blood), House Kestrel (by marriage)
Rank(s): king (by marriage) | [former] duke | sir
Parent(s): Halamar Gerard Wolf (m. | father), Danica Shardae Wolf (f. | mother)
Sibling(s): Mateo Clovis Wolf (m. | younger sibling)
Love interest(s): Eris Fable Kestrel (f. | wife)
Offspring: Vasta Leif Wolf (f. | child of Eris | twin of Calder), Calder Eric Kestrel (m. | child of Eris | twin of Vasta),
Unborn Kestrel (unknown | child of Eris)
Close Relative(s): Axel Crimson Wolf (m. | nephew), Talithia Mae Wolf (f. | second-cousin), Zuzana Wolf (f. | second-cousin)
Face Claim: Patrick Dempsey
Race: elf
Affiliation(s): House Wolf (by blood), House Kestrel (by marriage)
Rank(s): king (by marriage) | [former] duke | sir
Parent(s): Halamar Gerard Wolf (m. | father), Danica Shardae Wolf (f. | mother)
Sibling(s): Mateo Clovis Wolf (m. | younger sibling)
Love interest(s): Eris Fable Kestrel (f. | wife)
Offspring: Vasta Leif Wolf (f. | child of Eris | twin of Calder), Calder Eric Kestrel (m. | child of Eris | twin of Vasta),
Unborn Kestrel (unknown | child of Eris)
Close Relative(s): Axel Crimson Wolf (m. | nephew), Talithia Mae Wolf (f. | second-cousin), Zuzana Wolf (f. | second-cousin)
Face Claim: Patrick Dempsey
Random Fact(s) About Javan:
- His hair is naturally curly, but is normally cropped short enough that said curls cannot be seen.
- His first ever lover was Eris, to whom he lost his virginity.
- He was heavily drunk during his first time.
- He is extremely indecisive, and rather patient; the latter makes the former a further curse.
- He is a recovering alcoholic.
- He loves whittling/wood carving, and has made a number of pieces for his closest relatives as gifts.
- He was trained in metalwork as a side-career, and has hand-crafted a number of blades in his time, including his own.
- His weapon of choice is a basket-hilted sword (broadsword), which he has yet to name, due to indecisiveness.
- He is lactose-sensitive.
- He is covered in scars from past battles/skirmishes, although a majority are easily hidden by clothing (those that are more likely to be visible are along his arms, and the few reaching up from his chest to the base of his throat).
- He claims to be merely tolerant of Queen Eris' cats, but secretly has grown fond of them over time.
- He has never tried any type of drug, nor ever plans on doing so (no, not even Wolfsbane).
- His childhood nickname was "Javelin," due to his first trainer mishearing his name and thinking it was Javelin instead of Javan.
- His name is pronounced "JAY-vehn," not "JAH-vin."
- Despite only being a Kestrel by marriage, his temper is one to be reckoned with, and is nearly as dangerous as that of a Kestrel.
