"Complicated, sure. And I guess they all leave their scars," he shifted slightly, just enough to press a kiss to Lucanis' face- his cheek, nose? whatever he could reach, fingers still tracing along his back. "But they're not my family. I don't have to understand them. I can be pissed in your name."

If Lucanis wanted to march into Davrin's old Dalish clan and yell at them about his own upbringing- well, that probably wouldn't end well. Enough humans had slung that lecture at the Dalish over the ages that most didn't get past the first sentence before arrows flew. But in sentiment, he liked to think he'd be at peace with it. Maybe.

It was harder, he had to admit. Trying to objectively see your own family.