rook-apologist

[rook-apologist]

The Weisshaupt Arc

Or Chapter 10! Today Could Be the Last - Chapter 10 - enc0432 - Dragon Age (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

I. Am. So. Excited. I've been looking forward to this since I came up with the idea for this fic. Preview under the cut:

Eighteen months earlier, give or take

The fire crackled, its warmth not quite enough to fill the infirmary. Evka had wrapped Sihu in thick blankets, almost suffocating her before Davrin had moved one or two. She was now propped up on a sea of pillows, listening to the comforting snick, snick, snick of Davrin carving one of his monsters. She’d been sketching, but even that wore her out quickly. She couldn’t move yet without pain, but at least she could move.

“You chose to leave your clan, right?”

Davrin paused, glancing at her, then nodded. “I did. Grew up hearing all of that history. Only, I wanted to make history. Got bored. So, I went looking for adventure.”

“How’d that go over with your clan?”

“Poorly. They felt like I’d rejected them.” He said it perfunctorily, going back to his whittling.

Sihu studied his face. She flipped the page again. He chuckled.

“You’re drawing me again, aren’t you?” He didn’t even look up.

“There’s nothing else interesting enough. I can’t look at that griffon statue anymore.  Or that other griffon statue. Did you? Reject your clan I mean?” She studied his face again then bent back over her sketchbook.

He shrugged. “Yeah. I suppose. Clan life wasn’t for me. I had to get away.”

That resonated more than he could know. “I understand what you mean. My mother…well my adopted mother, she’s the one that found me as a baby. She’s our Keeper.”

“Hmph.” Davrin shook his wood shavings into the bucket at his feet. “So, you know all about the weight of our history.”

“I never quite measured up to it.” Sihu snorted. “Always more interested in shooting my bow and drawing and getting lost in the woods. When I never developed magic…it was a relief for me. Not so much for her.”

Davrin was quiet for a long moment, once again the only sound was his knife working roughly on the wood. When he did speak at last, he sounded thoughtful.

“It’s okay to find a new path you know. Though…I guess now you don’t have much choice.”

Sihu smiled at him. It still hurt, the way her skin pulled at her stitches. “We always have choices. I could run away tomorrow and none of you would be the wiser.”

He chuckled warmly, returning it. “I’d find you bleeding out in the bushes. Come to think of it, I doubt you’d get that far.”

“But I’d have made my choice.” She held up the finished sketch for him to look over.

“It’s good. You still don’t have my nose right though.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and his laugh reverberated through her, lodging itself somewhere under her ribcage.

[rook-apologist]

Made this in response to a conversation but it should be shared

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Hear the Song of the Stone, you Children of Titans. [...] We will carry the Titans in our hearts, but it is no longer their time. It is ours.

[rook-apologist]

Just realized, Lace Harding is one of those TikTok food creators that genuinely think they are making something good or have discovered the greatest food hack since sliced bread but everyone with a hint of real cooking ability and sense can only say ”wow that’s so creative”.

Meanwhile Lace boils the Thedas equivalent of pringles and breaks spaghetti in half and sticks the individual pasta in a giant block of Thedas Velveeta.

I still love her.

[rook-apologist]

Forgot to add the Ao3 link yesterday! If you liked this story, keep an eye out there for more in the future!

"Sunrise"

(Tumblr gets it first! Ao3 later today!) Pairing: Lace Harding x Rook Thorne (Human) (He/Him)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Tags: Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 731

Prelude: After defeating Elgar'nan in the Archon's palace, an exhausted Rook Thorne and Lace Harding watch the sun rise over the now liberated city. ----------------------------------

The air hung heavy with smoke and ash, the remnants of battle swirling in the faint breeze. Rook sat on the crumbling edge of what had once been the Archon's grand palace, his boots dangling over the ledge. Below him, Minrathous stretched out like a battlefield frozen in time—ruined, blighted, and scarred by the chaos that had consumed it. The rising sun painted the horizon in hues of blood orange and pale gold, a stark contrast to the devastation below.

He let out a slow, weary breath, his body aching with exhaustion. The weight of victory felt strange, almost hollow. The day was won, Elgar’nan was defeated, and the blight was halted, but at a staggering cost. Lives lost, a city in ruins, and Solas penitently bound to the Veil forever. It was over, yet the world didn’t feel saved. Not yet. His mind shifted to rumors of a coming storm beyond the edges of the sea, and those mysterious voices from the magical orbs his team discovered during their journey to stop the blighted elven gods. But that was a worry for tomorrow. For now, he was just focused on trying to enjoy their triumph today.

Nearby, the Inquisitor and Morrigan stood in deep conversation, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of distant cries and collapsing buildings. Plans for rescue efforts were already taking shape, their urgency palpable. On the shattered steps of the Archon’s throne, Neve Gallus knelt beside Bellara, who lay pale and trembling but alive. Despite her blighted condition, Bellara smiled weakly, tears streaming down her face as Neve whispered something that made them both laugh and cry at once. The bond between them was unshakable, forged in fire and despair.

Rook watched it all, letting it blur into a quiet hum at the edges of his awareness. His attention was drawn only when a familiar figure approached, her footsteps light despite the rubble. Lace Harding.

She said nothing as she reached him, her presence warm and steady amidst the ruin. Without hesitation, she sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. Lace leaned her small frame into him, resting her head against his arm. For a moment, neither spoke, both of them letting the silence settle around them, comfortable in the simple fact that they were alive and together.

Finally, Lace broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. “You know, I was thinking about the first time we met,” she began, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “That little village in the Anderfels, the one swarming with darkspawn. You waded into that mess like you had nothing to lose. Saved everyone.”

Rook turned his head slightly to look at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Seemed like the right thing to do. Even if the First Warden thought differently”

She chuckled, the sound light despite the weight of the moment. “I had a feeling, even then, that you were going to ruin me. You had this look in your eyes... like you weren’t just saving them…you were saving me, too. And damn it, I knew I was going to fall for you.”

His chest tightened at her words, a mix of exhaustion and emotion overwhelming him. He shifted slightly, bringing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Funny,” he said, his voice tinged with warmth. “I thought the same thing about you. Like fate…or whatever it is—had plans for us. And here we are.”

Lace tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and something deeper. Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken promises. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, anchored in each other amidst the ruins.When they finally parted, Rook rested his forehead against hers, a tired smile crossing his face.

“I love you Lace Harding.”

Lace smiled and closed her eyes as she rested her head against Rook’s shoulder, “I love you too.”

Rook turned back to the sunrise, his arm still draped around Lace as they watched the light inch over the broken city. For the first time in what felt like ages, there was a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Their journey wasn’t over, but for now, they had this moment, and it was enough.

---------------------------------- This is probably going to be the last short fluff piece I do for awhile, as I am eleven pages deep into a fanfic focused on Rook and Harding visiting Ferelden post-Veilguard. Additionally, I am making another AMV focused on ALL the companions instead of just a specific ship or story moment. Stay tuned!

[rook-apologist]

dragon age: the veilguard | lace harding

[rook-apologist]

how to spot a writer:

unhinged google search history

crying over fake people

owns 200 notebooks (they're all empty)

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Hey so...don't create shit like this.

not to be dramatic or anything but this makes me wanna commit crimes

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Why aren’t more people talking about how awesome it is that for the first time we had missions, in a BioWare game, where we could take the entire party with us, meet them along the way and see everyone together????

This is one of the biggest things we’ve all been craving for! Those missions were pure serotonin.

[rook-apologist]

"Sunrise"

(Tumblr gets it first! Ao3 later today!) Pairing: Lace Harding x Rook Thorne (Human) (He/Him)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Tags: Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 731

Prelude: After defeating Elgar'nan in the Archon's palace, an exhausted Rook Thorne and Lace Harding watch the sun rise over the now liberated city. ----------------------------------

The air hung heavy with smoke and ash, the remnants of battle swirling in the faint breeze. Rook sat on the crumbling edge of what had once been the Archon's grand palace, his boots dangling over the ledge. Below him, Minrathous stretched out like a battlefield frozen in time—ruined, blighted, and scarred by the chaos that had consumed it. The rising sun painted the horizon in hues of blood orange and pale gold, a stark contrast to the devastation below.

He let out a slow, weary breath, his body aching with exhaustion. The weight of victory felt strange, almost hollow. The day was won, Elgar’nan was defeated, and the blight was halted, but at a staggering cost. Lives lost, a city in ruins, and Solas penitently bound to the Veil forever. It was over, yet the world didn’t feel saved. Not yet. His mind shifted to rumors of a coming storm beyond the edges of the sea, and those mysterious voices from the magical orbs his team discovered during their journey to stop the blighted elven gods. But that was a worry for tomorrow. For now, he was just focused on trying to enjoy their triumph today.

Nearby, the Inquisitor and Morrigan stood in deep conversation, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of distant cries and collapsing buildings. Plans for rescue efforts were already taking shape, their urgency palpable. On the shattered steps of the Archon’s throne, Neve Gallus knelt beside Bellara, who lay pale and trembling but alive. Despite her blighted condition, Bellara smiled weakly, tears streaming down her face as Neve whispered something that made them both laugh and cry at once. The bond between them was unshakable, forged in fire and despair.

Rook watched it all, letting it blur into a quiet hum at the edges of his awareness. His attention was drawn only when a familiar figure approached, her footsteps light despite the rubble. Lace Harding.

She said nothing as she reached him, her presence warm and steady amidst the ruin. Without hesitation, she sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. Lace leaned her small frame into him, resting her head against his arm. For a moment, neither spoke, both of them letting the silence settle around them, comfortable in the simple fact that they were alive and together.

Finally, Lace broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. “You know, I was thinking about the first time we met,” she began, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “That little village in the Anderfels, the one swarming with darkspawn. You waded into that mess like you had nothing to lose. Saved everyone.”

Rook turned his head slightly to look at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Seemed like the right thing to do. Even if the First Warden thought differently”

She chuckled, the sound light despite the weight of the moment. “I had a feeling, even then, that you were going to ruin me. You had this look in your eyes... like you weren’t just saving them…you were saving me, too. And damn it, I knew I was going to fall for you.”

His chest tightened at her words, a mix of exhaustion and emotion overwhelming him. He shifted slightly, bringing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Funny,” he said, his voice tinged with warmth. “I thought the same thing about you. Like fate…or whatever it is—had plans for us. And here we are.”

Lace tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and something deeper. Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken promises. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, anchored in each other amidst the ruins.When they finally parted, Rook rested his forehead against hers, a tired smile crossing his face.

“I love you Lace Harding.”

Lace smiled and closed her eyes as she rested her head against Rook’s shoulder, “I love you too.”

Rook turned back to the sunrise, his arm still draped around Lace as they watched the light inch over the broken city. For the first time in what felt like ages, there was a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Their journey wasn’t over, but for now, they had this moment, and it was enough.

---------------------------------- This is probably going to be the last short fluff piece I do for awhile, as I am eleven pages deep into a fanfic focused on Rook and Harding visiting Ferelden post-Veilguard. Additionally, I am making another AMV focused on ALL the companions instead of just a specific ship or story moment. Stay tuned!

[rook-apologist]

by the way. if you take lace & neve, your prologue companions, with you during the final quest of veilguard, they share this dialogue.

i would like to lie down and cry. forever.

[rook-apologist]

Each day, you'd rise with me / Know that I would gladly be / The Icarus to your certainty / Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

[rook-apologist]

Took some photos of the Fangscorcher fight. This game is so fucking pretty y'all.

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Y’all seen these videos

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I've been working on this one for the past couple of days now, and this prompt fit way to well for me not to share it here. I really enjoyed the scene where Rook finds Lucanis and Davrin sharing a drink together, and wanted to explore how the rest of that night could have gone. For context, my Rook (He/Him) in this story is a Grey Warden. --------------------------------------------- “Gentlemen, I present to you Antiva’s finest,” Lucanis announced, swaying slightly from the bottle of brandy they had been sharing, but still maintaining an air of dramatic flair. “Skewers fit for kings…or, in this case, drunken fools like ourselves.”

Rook chuckled, grabbing a skewer and inspecting it with mock seriousness. “You know, I’ll never understand how being a professional assassin translates so well to cooking delicious food Lucanis.”

“High praise,” Lucanis quipped, settling into his chair and snagging one for himself. “Though I’d argue that both can be lethal when necessary.”

“Not sure that's something I want to be thinking about given how many times you've threatened to poison me” Davrin said, his voice dry but tinged with humor as he took a skewer.

The three of them dug in, their conversation flowing as freely as the alcohol. Rook, already leaning heavily against the table, tipped his glass toward the others. “You know,” he began, slurring slightly, “last time I drank like this, I woke up in the Weisshaupt dungeon. Two days later. No idea what I did to get there.”

Lucanis let out a reserved laugh, careful not to choke on his skewer. “Let me guess. You insulted someone important, spilled wine on the First Warden, or both?”

Rook shrugged, grinning. “Probably both. Honestly, it’s a blur. All I know is that I woke up with a pounding headache, missing a boot, and a new appreciation for Weisshaupt’s dungeon rats. Believe it or not, they were surprisingly friendly.”

Davrin, who had been laughing along, suddenly quieted. At the mention of Weisshaupt, his gaze dropped to his glass, and his smile faded. The weight of memory settled on his features as he turned the glass slowly in his hand.

The silence didn’t go unnoticed. Rook’s laughter died in his throat as he looked at Davrin. “Ah, damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, Davrin. I didn’t mean to—”

Davrin shook his head, cutting him off with a small, tight smile. “It’s alright,” he said, though his voice carried the edge of grief. “Weisshaupt was... home. For a lot of us. And losing it...” He trailed off, his expression shadowed by the memories of Ghilan’nains attack and the countless lives lost.

Rook reached out, clasping a hand on Davrin’s shoulder. “You’re not alone in that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I wasn’t the best Warden…hell, half the time, I didn’t even feel like I belonged. But Weisshaupt... it was still home. I’ll never forget the people who made it that way.”

Davrin met Rook’s gaze, nodding slowly.

Lucanis, unusually subdued, raised his glass, his sharp features softening as he looked between the two of them. “To Weisshaupt,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically earnest. “And to fallen friends.”

Rook and Davrin lifted their glasses, clinking them together with Lucanis’s. “To fallen friends,” they echoed in unison.

For a moment, the three of them sat in reflective silence as each recounted their own memories of Weisshaupt. The weight of shared loss and shared memories binding them in an unspoken bond.

But as the night wore on, that weight slowly lifted, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie. They laughed again, telling more stories of past adventures, their voices growing louder and more slurred with each passing hour.

Lucanis, uncharacteristically, began a dramatic reenactment of one of his more daring escapes, leaping onto the table with a dramatic flourish that sent the platter of skewers clattering to the floor.

Rook and Davrin howled with laughter, their earlier grief now softened into fond remembrance. By the time the brandy was gone and the fires burned low, the three of them had forged a newfound brotherhood. Bound not just by their shared battles, but by the strength they found in each other.

As they finally stumbled out of the dining hall, Rook threw an arm around each of their shoulders. “You know,” he said, his grin wide, “if I end up in another dungeon after this, at least I’ll have better company next time.”

Lucanis smirked. “Only if you can survive my cooking again.”

Davrin rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his smile. “Let’s just hope none of us ends up there. I’d rather face Darkspawn than a hangover.”

The three of them laughed as they disappeared out the door and into the courtyard, their voices echoing through the hall as they left. A reminder that even in the darkest of times, friendship and laughter could light the way.

It’s Writing Challenge Wednesday:

Good morning! It’s dark and dreary here and you know what I need? The power of friendship. Remember how I asked everyone what their favorite platonic pairing was yesterday? That’s cause I want you to give me a platonic scene today. The only rule is no romance. At all.

Anyways same deal it can be as long or as short as you like, reblog or tag. It can be as simple as a head canon or a whole fic. I will post my own later! Also there’s no time limit on these.

[rook-apologist]

Get you a lover who promises you the sun

Aka "lines I think about way too often"