#Davrin stay winning

[lyriumghosting]

Man. So, my Rook de Riva (Theneras/Neras) was created b/c I adore all the Crow npcs and wanted to wring every bit of faction-exclusive dialogue out of them that I possible could wanted to explore what kind of character the child of my HoF and Zevran might be, especially if I also had to think of some reason for that character to be away from his family all the way up north where Veilguard takes place. I'm very Crowpilled so I knew I wanted Neras to have joined up willingly (and it ended up working so well for his lore), and all in all I've been super happy with all the Crow stuff I've gotten from the game and come up with myself.

What's been a bit unexpected is how much of a blast I've been having with the Warden/HoF connection in his backstory. The thing about Neras is he's a liar, but he mainly lies by omission or implication (he's unfortunately similar to Solas in that regard and it would piss him off hugely if anyone ever pointed that out to him). He's told almost no one who his parents are (Viago knows, but even he didn't find out right away) and he really likes to keep it that way (for their safety and his own). All throughout the game I keep hitting bits that make me go "ooooooh Neras would know shit about this b/c of [HoF]. Fuck. He can't/won't say anything though, will he?" and it's been fascinating seeing how that's changed how I've felt about certain moments, especially with Davrin.

Spoilers under the cut!

The biggest example is, probably unsurprisingly, post-Weisshaupt. That mission in general was a doozy for Neras, but it's the point where his relationship with the team and Davrin specifically started to shift. Davrin has his big conflicted feelings about what it means to be a Warden who failed to die after doing the One Thing a Warden has trained and prepared to do their whole career. Meanwhile Theneras is standing there thinking "my parent who I love and idolize more than anyone in this world also killed an archdemon and lived. I don't know exactly how they did it but regardless the fact you're not the only one would probably be comforting to you, but I can't tell you that." and Woof. Neras was already having guilt issues re: Neve and the dragon attack on Minrathous, but this is where I think the straw starts to break the camel's back. Why can't he tell Davrin? (He's scared, he's unpractised at sharing truths about himself, removing one card will topple his entire carefully constructed tower of lies, he's really scared)

He should probably do it anyways.

[the-ebonarm]

puts him in my pocket

[amorremanet]

excited and scared to see how this turns out as if i haven’t been watching my friends play on stream for months while i waited patiently for my own turn

[scripts4dreamers]

Me and my one (1) friend who has also had their brain corrupted by the blight (dragon age) have been fighting about this for two days but I’m so sure I’m right, so I humbly present my thesis to you lovely people.

1. After the events of the Veilguard, if Rook and Neve ended up together, Neve tries to leave you.

LET ME EXPLAIN! (Spoilers for the Veilguard ending)

I love Neve. She’s my favorite romance from Veilguard, she’s an incredible character and she does not deserve all the hate she gets. Having said that, she does 1000% try and leave Rook.

The one thing we know about Neve, almost from the moment we meet her, is that she is not a believer. She doesn’t believe Solas is a god, at first, she doesn’t believe anyone will have her back, she doesn’t believe Minrathous will improve and she doesn’t believe she’s going to survive this job. But still she fights on, not out of a genuine belief that she can win, but because she has a soft spot for lost causes.

Neve has devoted her life to being the champion of lost causes. She tells Rook that, even if this job doesn’t get her, one of them will. She risks her life, day in and day out, in service of a city that has done nothing but hurt her. Neve believes she’s a dead woman walking, and all she wants to do is go down protecting the people of Dock Town because someone has to. Someone has to.

And then she meets Rook and Harding and now gods are real, and they’re destroying the world and oh well everything was always going to go down in flames, so why not help out? She’s always been a magnet for bad news, for bad luck, for the worst of humanity, so why not spend her last days fighting for what little good is left?

She tries to fight falling for Rook, but they’re everything she wishes the world could be. They’re the lifeline she’s been waiting for since before the world forced her to stop believing. They’re good and kind and full of life and how can she do anything but love them for that? But she’s already dead, they’re both already dead and she can’t survive another loss.

She throws herself into loving them only after she lost them to the Fade. Only after Harding/Davrin died. After her world already ended, because that’s when she really realizes how quickly it can all end and how much time she wasted pushing people away. The goddamn WORLD IS ENDING and the person you love is THERE and they’re REAL and they WANT YOU, so why not? What is there to lose? It’s easy to love someone when the world is ending. It’s easy to love someone when you’re both already doomed.

But then the world doesn’t end. The sun rises on a blighted Minrathous and they’re both still alive, and now she’s faced with rebuilding. There’s so much work to be done, she’s a bloody, scarred mess and the job she was brought in for is over, isn’t it? She’s not a cool noir detective who died saving the world anymore, she’s someone’s partner, someone’s friend and lover and those aren’t jobs she had ever prepared herself to take.

Suddenly, without the haze of panic and the urgency of stopping the gods, things look different. She needs a new apartment. Minrathous needs a detective. Life goes back to normal and Neve still isn’t a believer.

Of course, everyone says they’ll stay in touch. Bonds formed that can never be broken and all that, but Neve knows better. You don’t hang around once the party is over. You don’t give the world more ways to hurt you, more people to take. You don’t give people a chance to leave you.

So she leaves first.

She regrets it. She hates herself for it. She cries herself to sleep wondering how she could be such a coward, but she leaves. She packs a bag, writes a goodbye letter and leaves before morning.

Now, do I think her and Rook get back together? Absolutely I do. I just think that, with all the events of Veilguard happening in such a short time, there’s going to be some major questions for all the companions once the dust settles, and leaving before you can be left is Neve Gallus’ answer to those questions.

[starrose17]

Not dissing any of the companion romances PLEASE dont get me wrong, however, the ideal companions romances should have been:

Harding/Taash - can stay so cute.

Emmrich/Strife - can also stay, old man yaoi for the win.

Lucanis/Davrin - enemies to lovers would have been so good (and hot).

Neve/Bellara - fan gets her love interest and learns to love her as a real person.

[madrosie]

So...

Because I like thinking thoughts that hurt me I thought I might share.

What if the reason we didn't get a beautiful reunion between Rook and Lucanis and, he waited to visit them in their room alone to let him know he was scared that he would never see them again was because Rook rejected any physical touch at first?

It's a regret prison, we see whoever you send at a scout and whoever be breaks down the wards, and Varric, but Rook was gone for WEEKS, and if the fade sections of DAI are anything to go by, time moves much faster in the fade. Inky, Hawke and crew must have been in there for a few hours, but not that much time passed in Adamant.

If Rook was gone for weeks in the physical world they could have spent months in the fade. Facing all sorts of regrets for each of their companions, blaming themselves and second guessing before we finally get the section in game where they come to terms with everything.

Emmerich blaming them for allowing him to let Manfred die/blaming them for forcing him to give up his dream

Davrin blaming them for forcing him to reconnect with his Dalish Roots despite what he's said about not fitting in/Forcing him to stay surrounded by death despite finding something to live for now

Literally no way to win shit.

But for Lucanis Rook could have weeks of experiencing a Lucanis that is blaming them for allowing Zara to die instead of capturing her and using her to reverse what has happened to him and Spite, a Lucanis that tells them he prefers Neve but she stepped aside and he wished she didn't. A Lucanis that blames Rook for him becoming First Talon which he never wanted, and if you're a crow Lucanis standing over a crying child!Rook who is being trained by him like he was trained by Caterina.

Spite...Just spite.

There's never ending angst potential.

[blindvogel]

We know very little about the time Rook is stuck in Fade prison. Only that it is weeks and that the team crafts the fake dagger in the meantime. We never really learn what everyone feels or how they find Rook in the end. I think it is called the Lighthouse for a reason. So. Part two. Emmrich.

~~~

Its shape the absence of you (Part 2 of 3)

The memory has burned itself into his mind, plays on repeat every time he closes his eyes. Kamari, right in front of him, just a couple of steps away. Falling forward, reaching for the dagger in Ghilan’nain’s chest, he’d called to her to pull it out. And then she is gone. Just like that. Swept into the greater Fade with not even a trace for him to find. 

Other details are hazy. Davrin bodily dragging him away, down to the beach. The heat of the fire as Elgar'nan’s rage consumed the island. The silence of the Lighthouse.

When Emmrich opens his eyes the morning after there is a heavy weight sitting on his chest. Its shape the absence of her. 

She pins him down, like a butterfly in a box or a flower pressed between pages. 

This weight, it is seeing her face as it twists in anger and pain. Pain he caused her because he is a coward. It is the shake in her voice as she tries to stop him from breaking something beyond repair. Because he is a coward. It is the knowledge that the last memory he has of her will be this because he let his fear win. 

He’d been so afraid of the possibility that she would leave him in some nebulous made-up future, so afraid of causing her pain with his own death should she stay, against all odds. So scared of the what-ifs and the maybes. Of his own feelings. 

And nothing of this matters if he’s lost her. Just like this. Before he could repair what he had broken, before he had the chance to say how truly sorry he is. How much he needs her. How much it scares him if she should not feel the same way. 

Except- she does. Did. He simply had been too scared and too stubborn to believe it until it was almost too late. Is too late now. 

Emmrich is no stranger to loss and grief, to regrets. He has learned to carry them and not break, but he can feel the cracks. The rituals, the habits that he has picked up and created for himself after he joined the Mourn Watch have supported him through the darkest days. They do so now too even if it is a struggle. A clean shave, the proper dress, every piece of jewelry is a piece of stability, of armor against the pain. 

He has days where this works, where he can be a functioning member of the team. Go over news from Minrathous, work on theories and ideas how to stop Elgar’nan without the dagger - how to make one. 

It’s an idea that first sparks hope - trying to find Kamari in the vastness of the Fade by his usual means had yielded nothing, not even the smallest trace of her. But with the dagger they might be able to do something. 

He latches onto that idea, to that work like a lifeline. He spends days working out the details, the composition and crafting methods, and manages to procure the materials. He works on it feverishly, painstakingly. Yet when it is finished it is nothing but a bauble, a mere trinket, and not his salvation. 

Emmrich also has bad days. They all do. Kamari was not the only one that did not make it off the island. They lost Harding, Bellara. Both Taash and Neve take it hard, and he tries to be there for them with an open ear - he is a Watcher, it is part of his duty after all. 

But it is hard on the bad days, when he wakes up with the memory of her on his mind and that weight on his chest, when nothing he does can ease it. 

Then all he can do is sit in her room, one of her journals in his lap. She’d shown them to him once, her thoughts and feelings committed to paper, interspersed with pressed flowers she’d found on her travels with Varric. Emmrich knows there are also her thoughts on him in there - but he is still too much of a coward to read them. The page is marked with a Shroud’s Kiss. 

He also has not informed Myrna or Vorgoth. He knows he must, eventually, as is his duty. But it would be so final to put it to paper, like dousing the last flame of hope he keeps alive in his heart. 

It had been bad enough trying to explain it to Manfred when he had turned to him and simply asked, “Kamari?” 

“She is gone, Manfred. We’ve lost her to the greater Fade and I’m afraid it will not be as easy to bring her back.”

“Alive!”

“Oh I hope so, my boy.”

Then he had sent him out on an errand so Manfred would not see him cry.

It is a bad day when he finally opens the journal to the page with the pressed white flower - her favorite non-color as she had teased him after his little pedantic outburst during their date. White like fresh snow. The moon. Kamari, in an Old Nevarran dialect. The only thing she had ever received from her parents. He’d felt foolish then but she had just waved it away with a laugh, with such grace. 

Now his fingers tremble as he lifts the flower so he can read the words below.

I’m glad Manfred is back. It will make many things so much easier for Emmrich. He doesn’t really want to admit it, perhaps not even to himself, but he’s felt lonely without him. Without his family, his son. He waved it off when I suggested as much but it’s so clear to see. 

With Manfred back it’s going to be easier to convince Emmrich that he is braver than he gives himself credit for. That his fears are not everything, will not consume him. With time, he’ll see what I see. A wonderful, kind, loving man that has faced so many things thrown at him and not wavered in who he is. 

The strength of that conviction, that we must believe in kindness - it’s what gives me hope that we will get through this. It’s what I love about him.

The first tear falls onto the back of his hand and he quickly closes the journal, not wanting to smudge her words and lose this last thing he has of her. The reason he cannot give up hope. 

He cries himself to sleep on her couch that night, the journal pressed tightly to his chest. 

When Emmrich wakes in the early hours of the morning with a pounding headache and his heart heavy, it is to the sight of the Caretaker hovering in front of him. 

“A new path has opened, dweller. The Lighthouse will show the way as it has always done. A beacon to the lost.”

Then they disappear before he can ask any further questions. 

Emmrich stumbles to his feet and out of the room, out into the Library where there is a door that has not been there before. It leads to a spiraling corridor ushering him up and up and up, until he arrives at what must be the very top of the Lighthouse. Gemstone windows encircle the entire room, shimmering in every visible color and some that can only be felt. And in the middle of the room a light, warm and bright and a doorway beyond. 

His senses reach out to it, through it. It is as if he has become a lighthouse, his searching gaze traversing the Fade farther and faster. Somewhere, she is out there somewhere, he can feel it. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands there. Eventually there are Neve, Lucanis, Taash at his back. Asking questions, bickering. Still he searches, unwavering, until- 

“There, a light!”

“We’ve got something?!”

Emmrich reaches into, through the doorway. His fingers wrap around a wrist, his other hand finds the upper arm. Then Taash and Lucanis are beside him, reaching and pulling until there is no more resistance. Until she stumbles out of the Fade and into their arms. Whole. Alive.

Then Kamari pulls away, stumbles back with her hands raised, her breathing shallow, her eyes pressed shut. “Please. A moment.” 

Neve is faster. “What’s wrong?”

It takes Kamari a moment to answer. He can see her deliberately drawing breath, using a technique every initiate learns to deal with panic and pain to calm herself. His heart twists. 

“Too many sensations at once. Too bright, too loud, too much. I can feel… everything.” 

Then she opens her eyes and her gaze finds his, and for a moment he forgets how to breathe. What he sees there, a moonrise.

[experimentalmadness]

The Last of Regret

A little Emmrich/Rook fluff near the end of the game. I thought a certain moment could have used some more power so I gave it a go. We do love seeing a slightly more disheveled and panicked Emmrich, after all.

I'm being a bit vague on details because it contains massive endgame spoilers if you haven't finished the game. Suffice to say. If you want some good Emmrich and Rook hurt/comfort and angsty fluff, I've got what you need.

There was no air here. 

No sound. Not even the whisper of wind. 

All color had lost its saturation. 

There was no warmth, nor was it cold. And still Sivan shivered, hugging herself. This was not like the rest of the Fade. And this was all there was. All that there was ever going to be. Forever. One long endless looping staircase with only the dead for company. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, eyes closed. She couldn’t feel if she was crying. Her heart hurt, but all sensation had lost its bite. She wished she could cry. Or scream. How long had she been walking in circles?

Varric told her she had to let go. She had to accept what had happened, but how could she when this was all her fault? She should have stopped Varric from confronting Solas, she should never have sent Harding out with such a small team, and Bellara….she hadn’t been fast enough. She should have caught her, should have chopped off the blight tendril before it had snatched her away. 

Too late now. She was just some stupid city elf up against literal gods. Why did she think she could win? She was never good for anything. She’d failed Varric, failed her own city, failed…oh no. No, she couldn’t think of Emmrich. Not now. If she thought about him she’d sink to the ground and never get up again. 

C’mon kid, what did I just say?

”It’s too hard!” She cried. “I’m not ready!”

No one’s ever ready, but you can’t stay here. 

Varric wasn’t really here. It was only in her head. All of it had only ever been in her head. Stupid, stupid; should have known Solas would play tricks on her. Should have seen it coming. But the part of her that could hear Varric knew he was right. She couldn’t stay here. Even if she couldn’t defeat the gods she couldn’t fade away in this prison. A clean death, a good death in a fight, that was the way to go. Not disappearing like this. 

As if tugging her boots through swamp mud, Sivan made herself climb the endless looping stairs. She did not look up. It would be Harding’s face again, Varric’s, Bellara’s, even her own parents’ and she couldn’t face them. Couldn’t let them see her like this. Failure, worthless, mistake…

I thought I felt it over here!

The sound was far away. “Lucanis?” Just another memory, another lie. 

It’s faint, but he’s definitely on to something.

”Neve?”

Sivan stopped, looking around. But the expanse was as gray and devoid of life as ever. Maybe that was all there was. Echoes. But her heart stirred. 

The Fade is distinctly thin here.

”Emmrich?!” There was no mistaking it that time. She had heard his voice. Bright, with his usual encouragement, but with a note of unmistakable panic that sent her running up the rapidly forming fade-steps. “Emmrich!” 

Did you hear that?

That was Davrin! She could hear them! It wasn’t just the hollow sorrow eating her alive. 

The Fade shimmered ahead and Sivan felt air in her lungs for the first time. A sheen of white glinted against the gray. Just like the small Fade tears she had seen so many times before. There was hope here, fragile and wild and oh it was so good to feel something, anything outside of the crushing regret. 

She went running into the white tear and the solid arms that caught her. 

I’ve got her!

We’ve all got her. Pull!

Sivan spilled out into the bright light. Her heartbeat resumed in her ears, the blood in her veins moved again, and she could feel. Everything. The colors of the Lighthouse almost made her shield her eyes. Her lungs felt as if they would burst. 

But she was out. 

On the crumbling courtyard stones. 

And she was certain she was alive. 

“Rook!” Davrin laughed in astonishment and it was such a good sound, such a pure sound. 

It was then she realized the arms around her had not let her go, but were in fact squeezing ever tighter. “Darling, my darling…”

Sivan wrapped her still nerveless arms as tight as she could around Emmrich. He was real. Her hands went over the back of his coat, up to his jaw, her fingers skimming through his gray hair. He was here. She kissed him even though she knew how particular he was when it came to public displays of affection. She didn’t care. She had to feel him, had to make sure this wasn’t another one of Solas’ endless tricks. 

He returned her kiss with such fervor she was grateful she was already kneeling on the cobblestones. Her eyes spilled over with tears. He crushed her to him as if needed to check if she was as much a reality as she herself doubted. She didn’t care if she couldn’t breathe. 

“Think we could give ‘em some fucking privacy?” Sivan could have laughed at Taash’s words but her mind was far too jumbled. Everything was so bright, so loud, so solid. 

But Emmrich was all warmth and safety and familiarity. Already he pressed light kisses against her cheeks, the tip of her nose, under each eyelid, and with each she felt a little more real. “Extraordinary as ever, dearest,” he said softly. “Only you could return from the very Void itself.” 

“A prison,” she gasped, trying to order her thoughts. How to even begin to explain? “For the gods. Solas…he…”

”Breathe,” Emmrich commanded gently, a hand on either side of her face. “Slowly.”

His dark eyes were welcoming, guiding—was he crying? She flailed in a poor attempt to reach out for him again, but he held her still. His chest rose and fell in a deep rhythm that she felt compelled to mimic. The tightness in her lungs eased in pieces. Emmrich brushed the curls from her eyes and when she felt less like she was choking she let herself relax against him, tucking her head under his chin. 

“Darling, should I take us inside? You would be far more comfortable if—“

”No,” Sivan said against his coat, burrowing as deeply as she could, curling around herself. “Stay. Please.”

”But you’re shivering.”

”No’m not.” Her teeth chattered. 

“Rook, it is a delight to have you contradict me again, even though I admit I have no desire to let you go as yet,” Emmrich said with a laugh that sounded so tired, so grateful. “I thought that I might not…that—to have the last things we said to one another be that horrid argument…”

Sivan reached up and placed a tentative finger against his lips. “Love you too much to care about that.”

“What?” 

Her dear man looked so shocked. And how Sivan adored those looks of bewilderment when she would sneak in a compliment here and there. His tear-stained eyes went wide. “Was scared to say that before, too,” she admitted. “Everyone I ever loved, they’ve…”

It was his turn now to stop her thoughts from spirling. The blanket void of regret was going to be hard to shake, Sivan realized with a pang. 

Emmrich hushed her, his fingertips skating down her cheek. She knew when he was studying her. His deep look of intent and awe stilled some of her shivering. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it so suddenly. Stupid! She should have planned it out better. Made some sort of occasion out of it as he no doubt would have.

“Say it again, dearest. Please.”

His faint, pleading voice undid the last string of regret tied about her heart. Sivan smiled. “I love you.”

Emmrich swallowed up her words with a kiss that nearly knocked her backwards. Heat pooled within her as she tried to match him. This, oh this was never something she would ever take for granted. The sterile edges of what that prison had done to her sloughed off. 

“To think you lost only to hear you say that,” Emmrich said as Sivan rubbed her forehead to his, taking comfort in simply sharing the same breath. “You truly are indomitable, Rook. One of the many reasons I love you, too.”

Her face hurt from smiling. When was the last time she’d heard those words? When was the last time anyone had ever loved her? Ghosts now, all ghosts, but Emmrich was here. Alive. And wholly hers. 

“I think I can stand now,” she said. Her body was still shaking, but from something other than grief. 

“Then I will help you up, my love.”

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 rookanis origin story feat. davrin enjoy 🪶

"Is anyone else hungry? Maybe I should cook something."

Lucanis doesn't even get to finish his sentence before the sound of Rook's rumbling tummy drowns his words out entirely. So that's a yes on the question.

Rook wraps both arms over her belly, her blush even visible on her tan skin in the candlelight.

Davrin says something to her, but Lucanis' mind is already on the food. The dough he'd made in the morning should be good to go; if there's still some lardon left, maybe a firecake.

Rook sits down in the chair next to Davrin, kicks off her sage green friulanes and pulls up her legs to hug her knees as she answers.

"Neve and Harding didn't tell you about our hunt for Solas, then?"

Funny how her voice halts all other thoughts in his mind and makes him hone in on the sound of it, now.

"They don't tell it the way you would."

She hides her shy smile behind her knees.

"I mean, it ended with the elven god of lies in my head. Is that enough to win the 'worst job' contest?"

"You're joining us, then?" Rook nods, then hits her chin on her kneecap so hard it audibly knocks her teeth together. She holds her jaw in both hands like a scraped elbow.

"Fine," Lucanis says, and puts down his coffee cup. "I'll cook something, if Rook's staying."

"Oh, you don't have to cook just because I'm here," Rook mumbles into her fingers. "I was gonna get some fruit and chocolate to melt."

He doesn't tell her his mind about cooking was made up the second she walked through the door.

"It's no trouble. I have some overdue dough sitting around, anyway."

"Can I help?"

"No, no. You sit down. Let me get you some juice." Davrin groans and takes a generous swig of sugar rum straight from the bottle.

Lucanis had forgotten he's even there.

"Gods, you two are gross."

Lucanis can feel Rook's eyes on him as he walks to his dough basket, and knows the way she's relaxing into her seat, hears the playfulness in her voice as she retorts.

"We're not doing anything!" A creak, as someone leans over and plucks some fruit from the platter. The sound of the fabric makes him think it's Rook; satin snagging on woodsplint.

"Exactly. Don't even wanna know what you get up to when you're alone."

"What we're getting up to when we're alone is no business of yours!" Her tone simmers down. "Lucanis, could you pass me the blanket, since you're already up, please?"

"You're sitting on it." Lucanis sets down her quince juice, steadies her with a hand on her elbow as she hovers mid-air and pulls the fabric out from under herself. Davrin groans again and takes another sip of rum.

"Rook," Davrin says, after both of them hover near each other for an amount of time it became awkward even to Lucanis, who needs to share her space like he needs air to breathe. "Antaam. Go."

Rook does that elf thing with her eyes, where she both blinks and flicks her irises back and forth at such an odd pace he can witness both actions frame per frame. She's annoyed with Davrin. When Lucanis returns to his kitchentop, to roll out his dough and spread the cream ferment on it, she settles back into her chair and fidgets with the tassels on her blanket.

"Well, I got off a contract, went back to the Diamond, and passed these unreasonably large Antaam rounding up civilians. Asked them why."

"You asked the Antaam why they rounded up people of the city they occupy?"

Rook sniffs. Lucanis wants to sniff, too, but for him, it's because of the shallots he's chopping up. First Trevisan batch of the year is always so full of oils.

"No. I asked the civilians. We were close to the canal openings, just outside Drowned Treviso, so I figured they were begging for scraps or peddling what little belongings they had left."

"That's a shit reason to arrest somebody," Davrin replies, as though the Wardens have any leverage to judge people's arrests.

"Yeah, but at least it is a reason. Someone somewhere cared enough about - I don't know, reputation or some shit - to pull some half-cocked explanation out of their ass. Even if it's just I never fucked a knife-ear and you're unfortunately the first one I came across." There's a familiar bitterness in her words that makes Lucanis turn from his firecake and look at her.

He's the human heir to the First Talon of the Antivan Crows. He tends to forget the hardships of others - especially elves that aren't under Crow protection.

"But no. Nothing. No reason at all. Girl I asked was hysterical. The Antaam closest to us smacked her so hard she went flying. Broke her nose landing and everything. And then I lost it." Rook laughs, suddenly, glances over at Lucanis, flour on his fingers and holding onto the ovenpaddle.

"Imagine being an Antaam occupying Treviso and not knowing how to deal with Crows. Five Oxmen twice my height in under three minutes. Personal record."

Davrin whistles. Rook carries on without a care. Oh, not an uncomfortable laugh, then. Lucanis returns to shoving the firecakes in the oven.

"Anyway, it turns out - Lucanis, what are you doing? I thought you said snacks, not second dinner."

"Coffee," he replies, shrugging. Some of the water in the kettle spills to the floor. "The residual heat from the oven will make the water boil faster."

"What are you making, anyway?"

When Rook wanders over to the stove, Davrin trails behind her.

"Firecakes. I had some sourdough leftover from the bread. Quick and easy."

"Wicked."

Davrin reaches past Lucanis, grabs the cheap white cooking wine from the shelf and retreats back to the coffee table.

"Rook. What did it turn out?"

"Hmm?" She tears her eyes away from Lucanis' forearms. What is it with her and his forearms? It makes him both relieved and ashamed he hasn't inherited the Dellamortes' extra hairy arms.

"Before you got your eyes stuck on your boytoy like teens in the hay-" Rook scoffs. Lucanis could swear she rolls her ears as well as her eyes. "You said your Losing It turned something out. What was it?"

"Oh." She takes the seasondish and walks back over. She sits back in her seat, but Davrin's no longer in his - he'd moved over, so Rook and himself could sit together.

Lucanis might just get him a good wine next time he goes for groceries.

"Turns out a couple of those folks rounded up by the Antaam were in fact planted by the Talons. They were supposed to figure out where their cells are."

"That sounds like a suicide mission."

"I agree." When Lucanis presents her with a plate of firecake, she spares him a small, grateful smile that somehow outshines the Rivaini sun on polished gold. "Think that I actually said that in front of the other Talons was what got Viago to oust me. Of course I mess up one time and that's when he decides to get a big head about stabbing his own mother."

"He killed his own mother?"

Rook and Lucanis shrug in unison. He knows this without looking over to her because her shrug moves her blanket and with it, the tassels that Spite started chewing on the second she sat back down. Lucanis hopes she won't notice the wet.

"Normal Crow ascension. Also, not the point of the story. Oh, this is good. The dill really puts a spin on it I didn't expect."

"Well," he says. "Most everything's better with dill on it." Her elbow digs in the skin of his forearm. It hurts, just a little, at the wound that never really healed that he doesn't care to cut back open to properly sew it shut.

Despite it being his dominant hand, he can't close cuts with his right to save anyone's life.

Rook smiles and agrees with him all the same.

"So what is the point of the story?" Davrin doesn't stop eating to ask. His S'es get worn down with his biting off his cake slice while talking.

"Hm? Oh, Varric was with those uprounded folks. Tracked me down and recruited me to hunt down his old pal who needs a stern talking-to. Not like I had anything better to do. Or anywhere else to go."

Lucanis turns to look at her. The kettle's wheezing, and his own firecake slices are growing cold, but it doesn't matter.

Not when his question is burning on his mind like that.

"How did that make you his second-in-command?" Rook leans on his shoulder, without a care in the world. Takes another bite and turns to look up at him.

Lucanis finds he doesn't mind her affections in front of others. He finds he doesn't even know why he would care to.

"Fuck if I know. But it turned out all right in the end. I met you, didn't I?"

How could he mind it, if it drives Davrin up the wall like that?

🪶

powered by i don't know how to feed myself ✌️

davrin seems like the kinda guy to do that bts namjoon pissy jawpop thing ⏬️

the jawpop thing i find so incredibly sexy and due to my rona-induced hyperfixation with bts I've had for like a whole entire year that made me adopt the jawpop thing

[~rina]

[ofcrowsanddragons]

Okay so I have this head canon that Remi knits. And it didn’t quite make the cut for my long fic but I feel like he has an emotional reaction the first time he sees Lucanis knitting. So if you’re down a fic where Lucanis and Davrin are still at odds but maybe that happens and Lucanis notices and tries to make an overture.

So first off: I can't read. I wrote this whole thing and then I went back and read your prompt.

This different version has background Davrin x fem!Rook, with Rook being the one who (currently) knits. General shenanigans/character study/fluff, takes place post-Weisshaupt, with Today Could Be The Last in mind.

Out of Spite (Davrin & Lucanis)

“So, uh, Rook appreciated the yarn you got her,” says Davrin as he enters the kitchen.

Lucanis is sitting in a chair in the corner, and the assassin hums in response. “It was no trouble,” he says, his own hands engaged in the process of knitting what looks like a sock. A completed sock already sits on the side table in front of him. “I was in the area for supplies anyway, and she had mentioned what she was short on.”

Davrin narrows his eyes at the assassin. The overflowing basket of fine wool that Rook had found in her quarters didn't sound like an afterthought to him.

“Careful,” he says, nodding at the sock. “If you need two hands for that, you aren't constantly imbibing coffee like you usually do.”

“If I fall asleep,” says Lucanis calmly, “Then Spite can test my reflexes by throwing the knitting needles at you. I'm sure you'll be fine.”

The casual reference to the demon gets Davrin’s hackles up, and he tamps down on his automatic response when he sees the assassin smirking. Like he’s going to let the infuriating fucker win that easily.

Davrin strides across the kitchen to put together a plate of cheese and a glass of water for himself, feeling Lucanis's wary eyes on him.

“It's something to do,” says Lucanis, filling the quiet, “And it's decent dexterity training. If I'm going to be awake, I might as well be useful.”

It's a contrast how the hunter is more deliberate in his own training, and Davrin knows exactly how much food and sleep are required to fuel staying on that knife’s edge that keeps him sharpest. Rook often needs them to head through the Eluvian at a moment's notice, so he’s careful not to run himself ragged with training. Meanwhile, the assassin is either training, doing busywork, or brooding angrily into the middle distance at all hours of the day.

By that logic, he's a liability in the field.

“Sure,” says Davrin, raising a cheese knife to point at the socks, “But do those really match your outfit?”

Lucanis allows a secretive little smile to cross his face. “We trek through the wetlands on a regular basis, getting water in our boots. This blend of wool repels water and dries almost instantly. If the socks are well-made, they'll prevent blisters as well. I don't trust anything I buy quite so well.”

By the time Davrin sits down at the kitchen table, Lucanis is finishing up the second sock and tidying up his workspace. By the time Davrin is halfway through the meal, Lucanis is dropping the pair of socks in front of Davrin’s plate.

“You're in the Hossberg Wetlands even more often than Rook is,” Lucanis explains, and Davrin can almost see a hint of purple in his eyes. “It's important for the team to be well-equipped.”

Davrin presses his lips into a thin line, thinking better of his first, reflexive response. Before he can come up with a second one, the assassin is out the door and heading to the library.

The Warden studies the socks. Lucanis had been handling them with his bare hands, so it was unlikely this was a prank involving some kind of super-assassin itching powder. The Warden-blue base colour is interspersed with swirls of the orange Davrin favours, so he really should have seen this coming.

He leans back, wondering how one guy can be this much of an asshole by being nice. Lucanis may have won this round, but the assassin won't be laughing when Davrin has his revenge.

[seigephoenix]

Hey Happy DADWC Friday! For Senna Thorne/Davrin: “How is it that the human body has 7 million nerves, and you have managed to annoy all of mine?”

Hahahah I have been waiting for someone to send this prompt! Oh boy does this ship fit the bill. Poor Davrin. Senna's going to give him one hell of a run for his money with her recklessness. Jacek (her twin brother) happily hands over the responsibility of keeping Senna out of trouble to him.

For @dadrunkwriting.

Content Warning: is set in Veilguard but no real big spoilers, fighting darkspawn, sassy Senna again.

Davrin groaned as he heard her cursing for the thousandth time since they arrived at Hossberg.  He and Taash were scouting ahead while Rook brought up the rear.  Thankfully she was quick to identify darkspawn and concentrated areas of blight.  Davrin looked over his shoulder as Taash nudged him.  “Your turn.”

“Don’t you dare!  I am just fine!”  Senna snarled as she struggled to get through the blighted water in the wetlands outside of Lavendel.  For Davrin and Taash the water barely came up to their hips, but Rook on the other hand.  “Don’t you patronize me!” Senna hissed at Taash who came to help her.

“Come on.”  They grabbed the back of her armor like grabbing the scruff on a kitten.  They pulled her out of the water despite her hissing and bitching.  “There.  Stay on the path.”  Senna huffed at them and turned on her heel towards the physician’s house.  They were looking for any sign of him for Flynn.

“Darkspawn approaching!  There’s twelve!”  Davrin barely had time to say anything before Rook dove into the fight recklessly.  Taash merely laughed at how ridiculous Rook looked going up against so many darkspawn.  He waded into the fray and took down the darkspawn in his path.  The ogre broke out of the castle wall in front of Senna.  Instead of panic on her face he and Taash saw the sadistic grin.

“Rook!  Don’t you dare!” Davrin yelled to no avail.  He watched with a sinking in his chest as she threw her dagger at the ogre.  She jumped and used her dagger sticking out of the ogre’s chest as a springboard.  Her other dagger dug into the soft flesh of the ogre’s back, slicing through easily with the enchanted silverite.  The light went out of the ogre's eyes and it pitched forward.

“I don’t know if you’re stupid or brave,” Taash admitted after they joined Senna’s side once the darkspawn were all taken care of.  Senna struggled to roll the ogre over.  “What are you doing Rook?”

“Getting my dagger back!  It was stuck in the ogre’s chest.”  Taash sighed and rolled their eyes before helping her roll the darkspawn over.  Senna pulled her dagger out with a triumphant shout.  Davrin grabbed the back of her armor as the ogre twitched, yanking her behind him and slamming his shield down onto the ogre’s neck.  “Hey!”

“How is it that the body has over seven million nerves, and you manage to get on every last one of mine?” Davrin asked Rook who stuck out her tongue at him.  “Mature.  Real mature Rook.”

“C’mon Rook, you are a little too reckless when you fight.  And that’s saying something considering it’s me that’s saying it,” Taash told her.  Senna propped her hands on her hips and huffed.

“None of us have a connection to Solas like you do.  If something happened to you, the evanuris would win!” Davrin snapped at her and she glared at him.

“Davrin’s right.”  Senna heaved a sigh and crossed her arms.

“I’ll try and that’s all you’ll get from me.”

[datvtranscripts]

A Warden’s Best Friend Pt. 1

Warden Contacts

Davrin Masterpost

Signs and Portents Masterpost Previous: A Familiar Dagger

After traveling through the eluvians, Rook and Harding walk through some desert canyons in the Anderfels.

Harding: Wardens Evka and Antoine answered our letter. They're willing to talk.

Rook: In the middle of nowhere?

Harding: Where the First Warden won't notice. But if they don't listen…

(Explosion)

Rook and Harding rush ahead to the source of the explosion, where there is a dead darkspawn and a pair of Wardens standing over it.

Evka: Ah. Your distraction worked. Could have set it when we were farther away.

Antoine: Désolé. I didn't say it was a good plan.

Rook and Harding approach.

Antoine: Ah! You made it!

Origin dependent dialogue:

Grey Warden Rook [1]

Non-Grey Warden Rook [2]

1 - Grey Warden Rook → As a Grey Warden, you’re friends with fellow Wardens Evka and Antoine.

Rook: Antoine. Evka. It's been a while.

Antoine: Yes! And Harding, it's good to see you again.

Evka: I hear you've been causing problems.

Dialogue options:

Affable: That won’t bother you. [3]

Sarcastic: The First Warden exaggerates. [4]

Stoic: I’ve been solving them. [5]

Sad: And I need your help. [6]

3 - Affable: That won’t bother you. Rook: And you two haven't? Evka: We don't make problems. Antoine: We just fall into them. Evka: What's the latest? [7]

4 - Sarcastic: The First Warden exaggerates. Rook: I'm trying to stop it. Not my fault the First Warden has a stick up his— Evka: And you wonder why he doesn't like you. Antoine: He barely likes us. What's going on? [7]

5 - Stoic: I’ve been solving them. Rook: More like solving them. Rubs people the wrong way. Evka: So what's the latest? [7]

6 - Sad: And I need your help. Rook: Solas, the ritual… ever since I left, it's all gone wrong. Antoine: Then we'll fix it. Rook: Or die trying? Evka: That's the deal. What happened? [7]

7 - Scene continues.

Rook: It's the elven gods. They're real and they're changing the blight. Darkspawn too. You must've heard of D'Meta's Crossing. The blight there was unlike anything I've seen. And it hit too fast. Whatever comes next, it's bad.

Antoine: A change? Manipulation could explain it. We've been looking into oddities with the blight ourselves and… it's altered. I can feel it.

Rook: Then you believe me?

Evka: You're a lot of things, Rook—and a good Warden's one of them. You wouldn't lie about this.

Dialogue options:

Affable: That means a lot. [8]

Sarcastic: You two are my favorites. [9]

Stoic: Then what’s next? [10]

8 - Affable: That means a lot. Rook: Thanks, I… just thanks. Antoine: We're with you. Now, let's see what we can do. [11]

9 - Sarcastic: You two are my favorites. Rook: I'd lie about a lot of other things, but… thanks. You're the best. Evka: (Chuckles) You've got our help. No need to suck up. Antoine: I'll take the compliment. Harding: So what now? [11]

10 - Stoic: Then what’s next? Rook: All right. Good. So what do we do? Antoine: We make a plan. [11]

11 - Scene continues.

Evka: If the blight's changed, we need our Order. The First Warden likes us more than you, but that's not saying much.

Antoine: If he thinks what happened to that village was an aberration… A further hunch from Evka and myself won't win him over.

Rook: We need more proof.

Evka: If the darkspawn are changing, Davrin might help. Even among Wardens he's known as a monster hunter. He got pulled on a mission. Not sure what, but it's farther into the mountains. We can get you a rough location.

Antoine: I married someone with good advice. You find Davrin, and we'll keep after the blight.

Dialogue options:

Affable: Sounds like a plan. [12]

Sarcastic: This is great! [13]

Stoic: No time to waste. [14]

12 - Affable: Sounds like a plan. Rook: Got it. Stay safe. Antoine: You too. Evka: We'll see you soon. +Harding Approves Scene ends.

13 - Sarcastic: This is great! Rook: Three Wardens. It's more than we had yesterday. Antoine: The best three for chasing the unusual. And soon four if you find Davrin. Evka: Let's make it happen. We'll see you soon. +Harding Approves Scene ends.

14 - Stoic: No time to waste. Rook: Then let's get moving. Nothing gets better while we stand here. Antoine: (Laughs) Then let's make things better. Evka: We'll send word if we find something. +Harding Approves Scene ends.

2 - Non-Grey Warden Rook Antoine: Harding. We meet again.

Harding: Antoine! Evka! You look well.

Evka: And you must be Rook. Heard some colorful things about you.

Dialogue options:

Affable: Thanks for showing up. [15]

Sarcastic: I’m not surprised. [16]

Stoic: All true. [17]

15 - Affable: Thanks for showing up. Rook: I know. But you showed up anyway. Antoine: Well, your letter was… desperate. Rook: Uh, Harding? Harding: What? Aren't we desperate? Evka: Let's hear what you've got to say. [18]

16 - Sarcastic: I’m not surprised. Rook: Yeah. I get that a lot. Evka: I can imagine. Antoine: What have you come to talk about? [18]

17 - Stoic: All true. Rook: And they're all true. Evka: And you want what from us? [18]

18 - Scene continues.

Harding: The elven gods are changing the blight. Darkspawn too. There was a village. D'Meta's Crossing. They overran it with the blight in a snap. We saw the aftermath.

Rook: Whatever they're planning, it's bad. And if it involves the blight, we need Warden help.

Antoine: A change? Manipulation. That could explain… but… (Frustrated sigh)

Rook: You believe me?

Antoine: That the elven gods are here and… It's a lot to accept. But we've been looking into oddities with the blight ourselves. It's… altered. I can feel it. And your story…

Evka: A lot lines up.

Dialogue options:

Affable: Please. We want to help. [19]

Sarcastic: You’ve got to trust Harding. [20]

Stoic: Then do something about it. [21]

19 - Affable: Please. We want to help. Rook: Whatever you've heard from the First Warden, we're trying to help. Evka: Yeah. We're getting that. [22]

20 - Sarcastic: You’ve got to trust Harding. Rook: Exactly. Besides, even if you doubt me—you know Harding wouldn't lie. Harding: That's not a reason to—I mean, I'm not lying. We're not lying. Evka: We know. The question is what to do next. [22]

21 - Stoic: Then do something about it. Rook: Then make the rest of the Wardens see it. The world won't wait for your stubborn boss. Evka: (Laughs) Some of the rumors about you were true. [22]

22 - Scene continues.

Antoine: If the First Warden believes that village was an aberration, or that it did not happen as you say…

Evka: We're not exactly the First Warden's favorites. Your word and our theories won't win the whole Order.

Harding: So what do we do?

Evka: If the darkspawn are changing, Davrin might help. Even among Wardens he's known as a monster hunter. He got pulled on a mission. Not sure what, but it's farther into the mountains. We can get you a rough location.

Antoine: I married someone with good advice. You find Davrin, and we'll keep after the blight.

Dialogue options:

Affable: I appreciate this. [23]

Sarcastic: You won’t regret this! [24]

Stoic: This Davrin better be good. [25]

23 - Affable: I appreciate this. Rook: Thank you. Both of you. Evka: You can thank us if this works out. Antoine: Travel safely. We'll be in touch. +Harding Approves Scene ends.

24 - Sarcastic: You won’t regret this! Rook: I can do that. And you won't regret helping us. Antoine: (Laughs) Bonne chance, Rook. Evka: We'll be in touch. +Harding Approves Scene ends.

25 - Stoic: This Davrin better be good. Rook: Fine. But this Davrin better believe us. Antoine: We wouldn't send you up a mountain for someone who won't listen. Evka: We should get moving ourselves. We'll be in touch. +Harding Approves Scene ends.

Next: Monster Hunter

[rederiswrites]

Gonna expand on my thoughts wrt the Fade 'prison', because there was some good discussion in the replies and I've had more time to think about it.

So right from the start, they said, "This is a prison built for a god" and "locked by regret" and both of those had me perking up my ears. Because the implicit assumption--from both the gods that built it and the god that got you stuck there--is that a prison built for a god would surely hold a mortal forever. But my first thought, and the one intended by the writers, was that a prison built for a god might well be poorly suited to hold a mortal. Imagine a mouse in a bear cage!

To be clear, though I haven't finished the game entirely yet, I'm assuming that whether I stayed trapped was of far less importance to Solas than whether he got out. From his point of view, it was the sensible and even necessary decision. He is a MUCH better opponent for Elgarnan than Rook ever could be. Even as Rook, I think I'd be like...yeah okay he's got me there. As usual, Solas' mistake is not in his intentions, or even really in his plans!

No, the mistake--and this is also implicit in this sequence--is that despite his protestations, he is acting and thinking like a god. Which he is, by most criteria, so, again! Not really a glaring fault!

He tried to mold Rook to be held by this prison. He tried to give them regrets. And it worked about well enough that in that exact moment, when the walls were thin and Rook was at their lowest, he got out and they fit in. But with any time to consider it, a reasonably well-balanced Rook wouldn't be caught.

In my version, Davrin died and I was a fellow Warden. I assume that if you choose Harding to lead the other group, she takes the shot and dies. I actually think that would've been MUCH harder for me, but even so the conclusion is the same. With Davrin, it was sad and hard (and COMPLETELY BULLSHIT THAT ASSAN WENT WITH HIM) but we were Wardens. About the closest thing to a regret my Rook would have was that his wounds were so severe that he probably didn't live the extra twenty seconds to realize that he helped kill a Blighted god. Like, what higher aspiration could a Warden have? What more epic death?! Wardens are meant to die, and this is the most legendary death he could ask for. And Warden Rook understands that. Absolutely No Ragrets. But even if it was Lace, she's a grownup and she knows the stakes.

Ultimately, all of them--they're there because they understand the stakes and the stakes are everything, forever. They're not doing it for Rook, they're doing it because it needs to be done, and there's no sacrifice too great to prevent that. As a normal little mortal among normal little mortals, that's relatively easy for Rook to grasp! All Rook is is someone who's earned their trust to take point. Failing wouldn't mean Rook was responsible for what happened after. Failing would just mean that they were working against almost impossible odds and they didn't win.

But Solas! Solas has With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility wedged sideways in his throat like a bone. Solas has power beyond mortal comprehension, and so Solas thinks he should be able to Make Things Right. He is Wisdom and Pride at once, absolutely confident that his plan is The plan. He also understands the stakes, and realizes that no sacrifice is too great to stop Elgarnan. I don't doubt he'd sacrifice himself if he was sure that was the solution. It's not self-serving. And so since he has such great power, and since he is convinced that he should be able to make it right, he cannot let go of those regrets. He should have found another way, he thinks. A better way.

(He's steeled himself to sacrifice people, but he made those choices for them, because he didn't trust anyone else to see things as clearly as him. Rook's team made their own, fully informed, choices. This is another entire subject.)

The regrets of a god are far stronger locks than the sorrows of a mortal, one who experiences loss as a routine part of being mortal, and so he was trapped-- by things he'd already done and couldn't let go of.

Yeah, every time Solas is directly involved, the writing gets like 400 times better. It's so blatant.

[anaridgrassland]

What DOES your Rook's favorite mug look like? Also, who is your Rook?

Right I suppose I haven't really shown much of my Rook on here yet. I may have to revamp my old DAI side blog and make it for all the games, but for now I'll answer this here.

Quick intoduction to my Rook, this is a quick character sheet for Isabella, a mourn watch from Nevarra who prefers to work in the depths of the Grand Necropolis preparing bodies for burials, finding comfort in the company of the dead, as they have nothing rude to say. She is also quite fond of spirits and voraciously curious to learn more about them whenever she gets a chance to speak with them.

@nananarc's template

---

As for the mug I really had to think about this. The first answer was "Her favourite mug is whichever one Lucanis is drinking from," but then I thought of a real answer.

Isabella tends to stay up late some nights to keep Spite company, so that he stays out of trouble and while Lucanis lets his mind sleep. It's a deal that has worked out well for all parties involved: Lucanis gets some rest, Spite gets some enrichment and time to learn about the world outside of Lucanis' head, and Isabella gets to ask Spite some questions about himself and what he knows of the fade. It's wins all around!

Sometimes Isabells will bring supplies and Spite and her will sit at the large dining table as she teaches him a new craft or hobby. Together they'd learned Spite is quite creative and loves working with his hands, well Lucanis' hands. The nimble and dexterous fingers already used to knitting now learning to paint, and one evening how to throw clay and make pottery.

Spite had been fascinated with the feeling of cool wet clay between his fingers as he squeezed it, smelling the earthy scent dripping off of it with the water used to soften it up. They'd made a couple small plates together that evening and Spite was radiating with pride later when he'd noticed Isabella carefully cupping his plate decorated with little painted pink flowers as a tea saucer, and decided he needed to make her a mug to match!

He'd convinced Lucanis that he would behave and was allowed control for a few nights, staying up to carefully and shaping and sculpting the clay into a smooth mug with an intricately twisted handle. He'd carefully glazed the outside a cream colour and the inside the same soft pink as they'd painted the flowers the week before.

However, after he'd left the mug by the fireplace to dry and taken himself to bed to rest their shared body, Manfred had wandered in early that morning to prepare the tea for breakfast, with Asaan trailing in behind him sniffing around for snacks.

Ever the curious little skeleton, Manfred noticed the cup right away, as well as the jars of coloured glaze and brushes on the table. With a happy hiss, he'd picked up one of the brushes and painted a doodle of himself and his best friend Spite on the side of the cup. He'd picked it up and showed it to Asaan, who's bobbed his head and squawked happily at the painting, before reaching up and batting the side of it with a clawed paw, leaving an imprint in the still malleable pottery.

Isabella awoke to a commotion of shouting, both angry and concerned. She hadn't even bothered to put shoes on, sprinting barefoot across the court yard and into the dining room to find Lucanis, doubled over and clutching a his bloodied nose in one hand and gripping the edge of the table in a white knuckle grip with his other. His voice was garbled, splitting between his own and Spite's as they both fought for control, while Manfred and Asaan were hiding behind Emmrich and Davrin respectively.

"What on earth is going on?" Isabella spoke firmly and loud enough to be heard over all the commotion. Lucanis seemed to freeze and breath a sigh of relief as her tone seemed to freeze Spite in his tracks as well, giving him enough leverage to regain full control and push Spite back down again.

"Spite is throwing a tantrum again. Something about those two ruining a gift? I don't know he wouldn't stop shouting long enough for us to figure it out," Lucanis explained, motioning toward the others.

"Gift. For Rook. Ruined!" Spite managed to hiss out, but remained subdued for now.

Isabella glanced around and noticed the mess of the table: the open jars of pottery glaze, the dirty brushes and- ah yes, the now misshapen mug, knocked over on its side on the table with the lip of it pinched in a little from where it fell. She'd carefully picked it up and set it back upright, gazing over the paw print and the basic painting and her lips tugged up into a warm smile.

"You made this for me Spite? I love it! Thank you so much!" she praised the sulking spirit, and even Lucanis had to blink his eyes owlishly at her, surprised that she seemed so pleased with the mug despite it being ruined.

"But. It's ugly now." Spite pouted through Lucanis and Isabella shook her head and walked over to him, cupping his jaw and placing a softly kiss on his each cheek, his nose, and right above each glowing eye.

"It's not ugly. I love it to death! I have a beautiful piece of art that will remind me of my three favourite boys wherever I am. It's perfect Spite."

Spite huffed through his nose, but seemed content with this response, letting himself fade back into Lucanis' mind as the assassin blink away the haze before looking up into Rook's eyes.

"Only three huh?" he asked playfully, making her laugh softly and press one last kiss to his forehead before stepping back with a playful shrug.

"You're still my favourite Antivan, crow, assassin, and chef if that means anything. There's always room in my heart for more."

With that the commotion had settled and breakfast was served. During the meal Isabella made a point of mentioning to Emmrich that they should have a chat with Manfred about not touching things that don't belong to him to avoid any more trouble like this in the future, and Spite sat back quietly preening as he watched her fingers dance along the edge of the plate with the pink painted flowers he'd made.

I was already working on a sketch today and now I've had to add this mug to it purely because this idea was too cute! Thank you for the ask!!

[sketchsmack]

Catharis Aldwir

He/They

Mage

Veil Jumper

Age: 25

Mind Spoilers below…

(More information to come as I play)

Ahhh I’m already in love with him.

Background:

Born north of the Free Marches, Catharis was considered a bit of an odd duck. Sure he was liked and showed an eagerness for his training but with every success in their growth as mage came with a slew of mischief. Catharis was one of several fellow apprentices under the tutelage of their keeper- yet always managed to garner the most attention (usually due to his rebellious nature in his teenage years). Continuously unsure of where they fit in, Catharis heard word of the Veil Jumpers and quickly decided that his skills would be better served there- his clan was more than ready for his departure.

Relationships:

Varric: The familial connection between them was instant. For a long time Catharis thought of themselves as a screw up, barely scraping things together as they put on a comedic persona. Varric saw through him immediately and Catharis quickly looked up to Varric as a mentor and friend- someone who didn’t see them as a constant problem.

(More to come)

Solas: Self righteous prick.

(More to come)

Neve: Confident. Intelligent. On top of her game. Catharis is continuously floored that Neve even likes them at all. Unfortunately when it came to which city to assist, Catharis failed her. Though she says that it was an impossible choice, he can feel her rightful bitterness and will to everything in his power to win that trust back.

(More to come)

Harding: Catharis sees Harding as a sweetheart, a deadly, sweetheart. The two of them got along quickly and Catharis often asks stories about the inquisition (mainly to see if half of what Varric says is true). Catharis at first was ready to impart wisdom about being a mage but quickly knew he was out of his depth with the abilities Harding shows- either way, he supports her.

(More to come)

Bellara: Catharis sees A LOT of themselves in her and she puts whatever skills they had in the Veil Jumpers to shame. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like if they grew up together or met earlier- maybe Catharis would’ve enjoyed his studies more. Bellara drives Catharis’ love to learn which he thought he almost lost. She has a good heart and with the situation with her brother…he’s worried.

Update: After the death of Cyrian, Bellara asked Catharis if she should keep the archive- Catharis said that she should. In his belief, hiding history helps no one. In order for the Dalish to come to terms with their history, they need to examine it critically- all of it- especially the worst parts.

Davrin: Catharis never had many crushes in his life, his romantic life can be best described as casual and haphazard- due to his flirtatious nature. Davrin’s seriousness, his determination- he floored Catharis immediately. Behind every joke Catharis makes to shape a connection, is a nervous WRECK. Catharis is crushing hard for his man. They don’t want to wreck this.

Update: they are a couple now ((((:

(More to come)

Lucanis: Please god go to sleep man. Other than constantly wondering how that man is able to stay afloat with coffee alone- Catharis sometimes thinks of his suaveness. There’s something else though, an earnestness that Lucanis is truly and openly- himself. Lucanis has been through so much and is probably full of stories but currently Catharis has no idea how to approach him. (Even though the stat says they have the closest bond?)

(More to come)

Emmerich: Thank god Emmerich didn’t meet Catharis when he was an unruly teenager- there is no way they’d get along. But since he’s calmed out a bit, Catharis is INCREDIBLY curious about the art of necromancy and everything Emmerich does. The professor fascinates him and Manfred is perfect is every way.

(More to come)

Taash: Taash was the last to join the team but made no less of an entrance. It didn’t take much for Catharis to quickly grow fond of them. Having no siblings back at home, Catharis found them both quickly slotting into a sibling dynamic. Seeing Taash open up with their struggles with their identity was all too familiar. From then on, Catharis was determined to make sure that Taash would not be alone in the way he was.

(More to come)

The Inquistor (Emrys Lavellan): Like many people, Catharis heard stories of the Inquistor but it was only until they met Harding and Varric did Catharis learn the full breadth of his accomplishments.

(More to come)

Hobbies/Personal Information:

Likes:

That goooooood elfroot (if you catch my drift)

Anything sweet (major sweet tooth)

Parkour (he was the kid going crazy on the monkey bars on the playground)

Dislikes:

Heavy Armor (can’t do parkour)

[freedomcrows]

6, 9, and 10 for the veilguard asks :3

Ty for dropping by <3

6. Do you have your Rook(s) planned out to any degree? If so, would you share some details or ideas you have?

I don't wanna plan in advance too much, as I don't know the deets yet and I don't wanna get attached to an outcome just yet, but given my love of Zevran & interest in Antiva, I am very likely going to make a Crow (maybe for that sweet, sweet Lucanis bird romance) or a Lord of Fortune (because I don't have a pirate OC + Rivain.) I am also thinking human, elf or Qunari because I'm not really a dwarf person. Here's a little post about potential designs!

That being said, if all else fails, I might be porting my... IF MC-turned-blorbo-turned-babygirl Cassander (who some might be familiar with since I yell about him all the time over on @redwayfarers and there's a lot of moot/interest crossover) into a half-elf bastard of a human noblewoman, who she absolutely loathes (as per Cassander lore) so she sells him to the Crows. I absolutely love placing him in saving the world situations because he's the worst type of hero even if he isn't a bad guy. He just wants to live his life, dude. Also a Lucanis bird romance. Bisexuals stay winning.

(For any crossover moots, this is my chance to feature more human-looking Cass, as well! Think this but with pointed ears :>)

9. Which romance, if any, do you plan to pursue first?

*looks at prev answer* ... Birb husband. Davrin is a close second, and then Taash... But Lucanis... Been yelling about him since the trailer dropped, really.

10. Which location are you most excited/hoping to explore in-game?

Answered here!