Deirdre Bevan (deer-druh bev-an)

Deirdre of the Court of the Enduring Concerns: 24 year old high fae female that is an identical twin to Sersha BevanDeirdre presents with complex trauma (C-PTSD) symptoms originating from prolonged emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, primarily at the hands of her “mother,” a narcissistic queen figure, and later her fiancé, Prince Anwir. She suffers from: Severe self-worth impairment
 
  Body dysmorphia and dissociation from her own desires
 
  Learned helplessness, people-pleasing, and numbing behaviors
 
  Chronic guilt and internalized shame
 
  Fear of abandonment, intimacy, and autonomy
 
  Despite this, she exhibits profound resilience, high emotional intelligence, and a quiet, emergent hunger for something more — identity, agency, and power.
  Court of Origin Influence – The Court of the Enduring: Deirdre was raised in a culture that venerates life without choice — a twisted devotion to survival through sacrifice. Her court demands emotional repression, endurance of pain, and obedience to matriarchal power. Love is conditional. Beauty is currency. Service is virtue. Within this environment, Deirdre was not nurtured as a person — but sculpted as a symbol. She is the perfect daughter, sister, and bride, trained to embody softness and compliance while being invisible in her own story.
  Abuse History: 1. Emotional/Narcissistic Abuse (Maternal Figure): Deirdre’s “mother” is a classic overt narcissist — cruel, image-obsessed, and punitive. Deirdre learned: Her body is an object.
 
  Her value is in silence, obedience, and appearance.
 
  Desires are dangerous.
 
  Love must be earned and is never guaranteed.
 
  2. Sexual/Physical Abuse (Fiancé): Anwir, her fiancé, is violent, manipulative, and cruel — using Deirdre as an emotional punching bag and physical possession. Her trauma responses include: Freezing and fawning
 
  Nightmares and emotional flashbacks
 
  Self-blame and detachment from her body
 
 
  Internal Landscape: Deirdre is not a “broken girl” — she’s a survivor trapped beneath centuries of conditioning. At her core, she is: Hungry for agency, desire, and meaning
 
  Deeply empathetic and emotionally attuned to others’ pain
 
  Ashamed of her body’s reactions to intimacy, especially when tied to trauma
 
  Terrified that if she stops pleasing, she will cease to matter
 
  Like Feyre, she is the curse breaker of her family. Like Aelin, she is forced to wear masks of compliance and play roles to survive. Like Nesta, she is furious and self-loathing, yet a champion of silent suffering. Like Bryce, she has known loss, betrayal, and the weight of a world that doubts her worth.
  Attachment and Trauma Bonding: Deirdre is a textbook case of insecure-anxious attachment, complicated by trauma bonding. She remains entangled with her abusers emotionally, even when trying to leave them behind. Her perception of love has been shaped by pain, creating a dangerous fusion between suffering and intimacy. Kerrid — her future counterpart — is an anomaly in this world. He sees her. He believes her. And that is destabilizing.
  Catalyst Character: Prince Kerrid of the Withered: Kerrid is both forbidden and freeing. He worships death but sees her as life. He holds principles but burns for her. His gaze reflects back a version of Deirdre that is sovereign, not submissive. Her relationship with him is an emotional collision of everything she was taught to fear: She wants him.
 
  She wants to be wanted by him.
 
  She wants to choose him, not be given to him.
 
  But more terrifying than any of this… she wants to choose herself.
  Psychological Arc: Phase 1 — Dissociation and Compliance: She is numb, silenced, and enduring — believing survival is the best she can hope for. Phase 2 — Emergence of Desire: She begins to fantasize. Not just sexually — but emotionally. She wants freedom, self-ownership, and to be seen. Phase 3 — Relapse and Guilt: After brief moments of clarity or rebellion, she collapses into shame. She punishes herself for pleasure. For wanting more. Phase 4 — Confrontation and Rage: This phase is marked by explosive emotions: fury at her mother, her fiancé, even Kerrid. But this rage is sacred — it fuels the rejection of false narratives. Phase 5 — Identity Reconstruction: She begins to rewrite who she is. She chooses. She disobeys. She reclaims her body, her name, her magic. Phase 6 — Cycle Breaker: Deirdre becomes the one who ends generational harm — not through war alone, but through the radical act of healing. She embodies softness as strength. Sensuality as sacred. Life as chosen.
  The Core Question: Can Deirdre learn to love herself without condition — not despite her scars, but because of them — and in doing so, reclaim her divinity and agency? Her arc is not about falling in love with Kerrid. It’s about falling in love with herself — while someone finally bears witness to it, without turning away.
  Deirdre: Character Summary Core Strengths: Compassionate & Loyal: Deeply supportive of her friends and especially of her twin sister, Sersha.
 
  Natural Leader: Thrives in leadership roles and wants to prove her value.
 
  Adventurous Spirit: Escapes to the wilderness to find freedom and peace.
 
  Witty & Charming: Direct, playful, and assertive, especially when flirting or pursuing someone she cares about.
 
  Emotionally Intelligent (toward others): Deeply understanding and affirming to those she loves.
 
  Love Languages: Words of Affirmation — craves verbal love, encouragement, and emotional reassurance.
 
  Quality Time — bonds through shared experiences and adventures.
 
  Physical Touch — seeks comfort and connection, especially in moments of anxiety.
 
  Acts of Service — interprets care through small gestures of thoughtfulness and protection.
 
  Negative Traits & Struggles: Impulsive & Reckless: Jumps into relationships or decisions without thinking through consequences.
 
  People-Pleasing & Perfectionism: Bends herself to be what others want, then resents them for it.
 
  Abandonment Issues: Fears being left or rejected, leading to anxiety and emotional volatility.
 
  Body Image Issues: Mid-sized and well-proportioned, but made to feel "too large" by her mother and grandparents.
 
  Temper & Defiance: Ready to fight for what she wants; struggles with being told "no."
 
  Manipulation & Sneakiness: Can bend the rules or use emotional leverage to protect herself or get what she needs.
 
  Emotional Shutdown: Compartmentalizes trauma; struggles to process emotions in real time.
 
  Indecisiveness: Especially under pressure, due to fear of failure or imperfection.
 
  Psychological & Emotional Themes: Self-Worth: Believes success or external love will make her lovable.
 
  Trauma Response: Blames herself for being attacked or vulnerable, even when it isn’t her fault.
 
  Healing Arc: Learns to give herself the same love, compassion, and protection she gives to others.
  DEIRDRE — The Masked Heart Core Wound:
  “I am only beautiful in pieces. I’m only worthy if I’m useful. I’m only seen when I’m being destroyed.”
  Deirdre has been told her value lies in:
  Her body (but only when it’s controlled or “behaving”)
  Her obedience (because asserting herself = punishment)
  Her silence (because truth costs too much)
  So when men want her? She doesn’t think: They see me. She thinks: What do they want to take?
  WHY SHE CAN’T SEE SHE’S WANTED Because she wasn't wanted when it mattered most. Because no one saved her when she was a child. Because when someone says, “You’re beautiful,” she hears, “I’m going to take something now.”
  She wears a mask not to hide—but to distract. If they’re watching the performance, they won’t ask what’s behind it. If they want her body, they won’t ask if she wants herself.
  She thinks being wanted is transactional. Being desired is a burden. She believes affection = obligation. Love = control.
  So when three very different men want her, she doesn’t see love. She sees:
  Doran as naive.
  Kerrid as tragic.
  Anwir as inevitable.
  Because she hasn’t yet realized she’s not a product of pain— She’s a woman born of fire, and all three of them want to burn in her for different reasons.
 
  Before the book starts: Deirdre uses sex the way someone who's never been truly wanted uses power. She doesn’t feel beautiful. Not really. She feels usable. Desirable in that fast, hungry way that burns hot and leaves ashes. So she lets herself be used—because if she chooses it, then no one’s abandoning her.
  She’s got rules:
  No attachments.
  No repeats.
  No looking in her eyes when they finish.
  She thinks it makes her strong. In control. (It doesn’t. But it feels that way.)
  Then enters: DORAN He’s not her guard yet. Just a smart-mouth rebel who sees her, really sees her, at a tavern or public event or whatever setup you have. He makes a flirt that isn't crude. He's charming, sure—but there's a depth to it. A respect. And she panics.
  Suddenly, this one feels different. Like maybe he’d actually care—and that scares the hell out of her more than any rough hands ever could.
  So here’s how she handles it, because this girl is wrecked and so damn layered:
  What she does: She flirts back. A lot. But she doesn’t sleep with Doran. She wants to, gods does she want to, but she knows it’ll unravel her.
  She keeps sleeping with other men… but starts feeling sick after. Dirty. Not empowered. Because for the first time, there's someone whose gaze she wants to be clean under.
  She tries to keep Doran at a distance. Tries to act unaffected. But she starts turning down other men after a while. Not immediately—maybe halfway through Act 1. It’s not because she suddenly thinks she’s worth more—it’s because she doesn’t want Doran to see her as trash. (Heartbreaking, isn’t it?)
  Once she’s engaged to Anwir, she stops altogether. Not because of love. But because she believes this is the bed she made. This is what she deserves.
  Her inner monologue: “He looked at me like I was made of starlight. I’m not. I’m rust and shadows. He’ll figure it out soon enough.”
  “Letting them touch me means I’m in control. That’s what I tell myself. But then I dream of him kissing my collarbone like it means something and I wake up angry.”
  “Anwir is cruel, but at least he doesn’t lie about it. He sees the monster in me. He doesn’t ask me to be anything else.”
  Options to Play With: A near-miss with Doran early on—him about to kiss her, and her freezing up or laughing it off too hard.
  A rough hookup with a rando where she imagines Kerrid for a split second and immediately shuts down after.
  A moment where Anwir taunts her about her past liaisons, and she doesn’t deny it—but Doran overhears, and you get that ache in his expression.
  She’s had plenty of eyes on her before. Eyes that wanted. Eyes that devoured. But never eyes that understood. Never eyes that said: I see you, not just the body you weaponized. And for someone like Deirdre—scarred, sexualized, shattered beneath a mask of fire and sharp teeth—that look is the most dangerous thing of all.
  Because it means if she lets him in, even for one night, she risks—
  Being cherished (which she doesn’t think she deserves),
  Being vulnerable (which feels like dying),
  Being seen (which is worse than being ignored, because then he could leave once he knows the truth).
  So here’s what happens in that club: Doran flirts like he’s toying with fate. Like it’s not about her body—it’s about her spark. Her laugh. The glint of war in her eyes. And she leans in because that’s what she knows how to do. Seduction is her battlefield. But when he doesn’t take the bait—when he doesn’t fall for her usual routine, when he pulls her chair out instead of her bodice— she spirals.
  “Why the hell didn’t he try to kiss me? What’s wrong with me?”
  It’s that messy self-hating cycle: “If he really wanted me, he’d try. But if he tries, he just wants me like the rest of them. But if he doesn’t, he must think I’m not worth it.”
  She doesn’t sleep with him that night because her trauma screams, “Don’t let this one matter. You’ll break.”
  And she’s right. Because if she slept with Doran then, it wouldn’t be casual. It wouldn’t be power. It would be surrender.
  And she hasn’t learned how to survive that kind of softness yet.
  Not until much later.
  You want her to sleep with someone at that club? Fine. But not him. Never him. Not until she’s ready to be undone.