#Emmrich romance

[jaal-ama-daravv]

Ghilan'nain Threatens Rooks LI - Emmrich Edition

thanks @redbatchedcumbermayned for sharing where to find it!

[oh-orthur36]

Love this scene. Decided to give it a little touch up though. 💜

btw feel free to use as a mobile background

[lunian]

I AM NOT IMMUNE how charming Emmrich is 😭

[heylittleriotact]

Act 3 Emmrich romance spoilers below the cut

GET YOU A MAN WHO LOOKS AT YOU LIKE EMMRICH VOLKARIN LOOKS AT ROOK.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS IT’S SO FUCKING AHSJFHDJSWJSK 😍

(you just fucking know he’s been looking at her like this for ages but she never noticed)

[caffeinatedmunchkin]

#BratTamerEmmrichConfirmed

[trashmouth-critter]

Ninette Aldwir and Emmrich Volkarin

Back from the months in the commission mines with a quick little rook + Emmrich drawing

I just needed to draw them real quick before I continue the game🤭

[lerulpes]

«now close your eyes and let me love you to death»

[burnouts3s3]

The Emmrich Volkarin romance with a Male Rook in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, thanks to Naughty Gaming.

EDIT: Here's the Human Version thanks to Backseat Guides.

[huldrabitch]

Emmrich complaining about almost having to teach a huge class of students (literally just 10 instead of his usual much smaller group) is so fucking funny to me. His expression and genuine, but polite outrage, and then further explanation about how they can't possibly expect him to do this. He basically ends it with homesickness be damned at least I'm not leading that damn class🙏

[fatale-distraction]

Abigail Ingellvar

Not an artist, so forgive the bad collage.

Veilguard 30 Prompt list by @pavus ; I added 31: Opinion on Inquisitor.

Abigail’s Pinterest

Name: Abigail Ingellvar

Age: 32

Race: Elf

Background: Mourn Watch

Class / Spec: Rogue/Saboteur

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pan/Bi demisexual

Parentage: Unknown

Siblings: Unknown

Early Childhood: Discovered by undead servants in the Necropolis as an infant. Raised alongside the Mortalitasi and Mourn Watch, recommended for their ranks at a very young age due to her affinity with spirits and the undead, though she lacks magical abilities. She meets Emmrich as a young man in his apprenticeship and proceeds to forget about him as anything other than “man who was nice to me once.”

Adolescence: Meets Emmrich again as a young adult in her own apprenticeship. He’s kind and helpful and she develops a serious crush on him, but due to their age difference, settles for an admiring glance now and then.

First Love: A young Mortalitasi who met her unfortunate end on a mission deep within the Necropolis. Her body was recovered and repurposed as a skeleton guard per her own wishes, but Abigail can’t bear to see her. Yes I love Gideon the Ninth, why do you ask

First Hate: Ex-boyfriend who turned out to be Venatori. He is now “missing”, correctly presumed dead.

Favorites: Tea, books, soup, anemone flowers and thistle, stormy weather

Injuries / Scars: Lightning strike scars on her left arm from a direct-contact electricity spell

Distinguishing Features: Spectacles, CC willing. Very slight chin cleft and a beauty mark above her lip on the left side.

Voice Type: British English

Vices: Wine and brandy; occasionally smokes tobacco and/or elfroot; will gamble at Wicked Grace, billiards, or dice if invited

Virtues: Doesn’t swear often, modest, patient, compassionate toward the less fortunate

Homeland: Presumed to be Nevarra, but technically unknown

Height / Build: 5’1”, slim/muscular

Hair / Eye color: Pale brown hair, very long and wavy when loose. She prefers to wear it up, as it makes her feel more adult and professional, and when it is down she feels childish and vulnerable. Brown eyes like strong tea.

Personality: Patient, compassionate, but withdrawn and introverted. She has a good sense of humor, but she’s quiet so people are usually caught off guard, or make the mistake of thinking she’s serious. Gets along better with spirits and skeletons than she does with most people.

Aspirations: Finding out where she came from, being the best Mourn Watcher she can, finally feeling like she belongs somewhere

Fears: scarabs, large dogs (small dogs are okay), dark spawn, specifically brood mothers, blight sickness

Hobbies: Reading, researching Dalish customs, especially funerary rites, embroidery, chess, long walks in dreary weather, making scrap-books to help memorize important information about the undead she’s in charge of.

Views on Magic: Magic is something she actively studies alongside the Mortalitasi. Although she doesn’t have any magical abilities herself, she is knowledgeable and respectful of magic. She doesn’t fear it or venerate it. It’s a tool that can be used for good or evil, and shouldn’t be used without proper understanding of it. She frequently compares magic to a bone saw, prompting concern from some of her less-funny peers.

Views on Elves: She longs to feel like she belongs to a Dalish clan, or even an alienage community, but knows she doesn’t. She admires elven culture across Thedas, whether Dalish or not. Although she studies the gods, she doesn’t really believe in them (or the Maker for that matter. Her beliefs are probably closer to agnostic with a touch of Avvar spirituality) until she sees them before her eyes.

Views on the Veilguard: Was NOT thrilled about the idea of leading a group, but she likes Varric and Harding. Once she meets the rest of the Veilguard she likes them a lot and begins to feel very at home with them, which is a new sensation for her.

(INITIAL) Views on Solas: Slappable. Soggy. Sad. 5/10, unimpressed. Later, she is attracted to his scholarly nature and begins to enjoy his company. She genuinely begins to like him when she realizes the depth of his feelings for the Inquisitor.

Views on the Inquisitor: Loves her. They like the same dirty romance novels and the same tea, and Ellana is TERRIBLE at Wicked Grace, so Abigail beats her frequently. After meeting Ellana, Abigail is 75% more motivated to slap the shit out of Solas.

[jaal-ama-daravv]

EMMRICH VOLKARIN | DEATHS KISS

"You know, you don't have to hide your face from me." "I will let nothing part us again, my love. Not in this, nor any other world."

[oh-orthur36]

Emmrich Romance - Final Romance Scene (NSFW - Nudity)

[lunian]

thinking to have second alt playthrough in Veilguard to fully romance Emmrich bc I'm very in love with him but this current Rook is not really fitting with him, I feel like

thinking about Grey Warden Rook bc how is it to think about horrors of mortality together when you have very limited time left on this world yourself...

[heylittleriotact]

Eulogy

I know there has been talk of Emmrook smut, but this short one shot took precedence in light of what day it is - it'll be a year tomorrow that my Grandma passed away, and I'm feeling reflective. So what do we do when we're stuck in our own heads? We write! (Full text under the cut or on ao3)

Summary: Emmrich finds Amina drinking wine alone in the dining hall relatively early in the day, but not for the reasons he might think.

A fluffy oneshot about loss, grief, regrets, and saying goodbye to the ones we love... and keeping their memory alive.

It wasn’t the most palatable combination: the herbal bitterness of the licorice was a poor compliment to the fruity sweetness of the wine, but Amina couldn’t think of anything in the world she wanted more at the moment. The clashing flavours took her back to warm houses and loud laughter, a bowl of the same candy within reach, and the chiming of crystal to punctuate the end of an amusing story told to gathered company.

Reda did love to tell stories. 

Staring forward, lost in memories, she held the gold pendant around her neck in her hand and nestled the pad of her thumb into the slight indentation in the center, the metal warming to match her temperature until it felt almost lifelike. 

That ridiculous game she could play for hours as a child - the one where one person sent a gulder rolling across the floor on its edge and the other person rolled it back… Reda would cater to Amina’s boundless joy and play as long as she wanted even though her knees complained and her back did too. Achy joints proved many times over the years to be of little impediment to Reda’s passion for playing games. 

She smiled and rubbed the pendant. 

“Darling?” Amina glanced up from her chair, her smile widening at the sight of Emmrich. “I didn’t realize you snuck in.” 

“I was looking for you to–” his eyes found the bowl of candy on the low table and then the bottle of wine, and then the glass in her hand - it was only just past midday. “Is everything alright?” His tone pivoted from one of enthusiasm to concern.

“Hm?” Amina hummed distantly before she comprehended his cause for concern: she didn’t drink often, never this early in the day, and never by herself. “Oh - this. This must look strange.” She felt her cheeks redden: it wasn’t that Emmrich wasn’t welcome, she just thought that with Lucanis and Neve visiting the market in Treviso today, she’d be able to take a moment for herself in the Dining Hall. “I’m fine. Why don’t you join me?” She straightened and gestured at the empty lounging chair across from her, the pendant in her hand dropping back onto her chest. 

She supposed she could have sat at the main dining table, but it just seemed so large and empty for one person to sit at with no company. 

Emmrich sat without hesitation, looking unconvinced by her assurance. 

“Today marks a year since Reda died. She and her husband, Gortan took me in after I was found in the Necropolis and they raised me like I was one of their own. Closest thing I ever had to family, those two and their kids.” 

Ah. There it was: the face Emmrich was making - the Mortician’s Mask: the expression that every single mortalitasi in the Necropolis could don at will. It wasn’t an unpleasant expression, nor did it look forced or disingenuine - the opposite, actually: it was an expression of true compassion, sympathy, and unspoken affirmation that the person making it was listening, should one want to talk about it. 

He was very, very good at it.

“My deepest condolences, darling.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I sense that I’ve clumsily intruded on a private memorial.” 

“You haven’t intruded on anything,” she popped another piece of licorice into her mouth. “Just taking a moment or two for some memories - you’re more than welcome to join me… she always did love a party, and she would have thought you were a perfectly charming young man.” 

The corners of Emmrich’s mouth lifted at the compliment. “In that case, I would be remiss to decline such a graciously extended invitation.”

“Good answer, love.” Amina rose to her feet and set down her glass before crossing to the cabinet against the far wall and returning with a second wine glass for Emmrich, smiling the entire time.She filled it and handed it to him, sparing the time it took to brush her fingers across his. “The sweet ones from the Anderfels were her favourite - wine, I mean. Not… not lovers if that’s what you thought I meant.” 

Always so eloquent around this one, aren’t I?

“I assumed you were referring to the wine.” He looked at her like she was personally responsible for the existence of the stars in the sky. “Will you tell me about her?”

So Amina did. She told him all about Reda, and how she was a mother, and a matron at the Necropolis, passionate and devoted to her work for her entire life. She told him how she raised Amina in a household of love and acceptance, and how she proved that family was not defined by blood alone. She told him of her champion’s heart that compelled her to spend what little spare time she had advocating for those in the city that needed a voice - how she was still that voice for others even until her dying day. She told him how she found joy in simplicity and companionship, licorice and sweet wine; and how she found comfort and peace in her faith that saw her through life’s kindnesses and its hardships in equal measure. 

“She wouldn’t be bullied around by anyone - and even when she was standing up for herself or anyone else, she was always kind - firm as a bronto when the occasion called for it, being a matron and all, but always… kind.” The pendant was back in her hand, and she poured herself and Emmrich another glass. 

“I didn’t… I wasn’t… I’ve always felt different than everyone else. Like I’m a mismatched piece trying to blend into a world of people that are kindred in ways that I can never attain, no matter how hard I try.” She looked down at her fist clenched around the pendant. “Reda was one of the few people I’ve known who always made me feel like I belonged.” She cleared her throat; steadied her voice. “I miss her a lot.” 

“She must have been tremendously proud of you: I daresay you’ve inherited many of her virtues by the sound of it.” 

“The stubborn streak a mile wide? Entirely her fault.” She laughed then, and it felt good when Emmrich joined her: it made her heart feel a little lighter.

The laughter faded though, as it will in such circumstances. 

“I didn’t get to spend as much time with her as I wanted to when she got sick. I wanted to be there for her and take care of her like she took care of me… and I did when I could, but I was still an active Watcher, and she fell ill right around the same time as the War of The Banners, and of course then I was… ‘sent to travel’ and fell in with Varric.” She looked at her knees. “I was in Cumberland when the Watch sent word that her death was imminent. Rode as fast as I could without killing my horse to get there in time.” 

“Did you?”

A thin smile. “I did.” Amina whispered, the faint pride in her voice unmistakeable. “Have you ever been at someone’s side during their last moments?” 

Emmrich nodded but did not elaborate.

“Then you know what it’s like - the way time seems to pass glacially, and how the air itself buckles and stills. The very existence of life is so colossally tangible and concrete just before it dims… yet we spend so much of our own lives dulled to its majesty, wrapped up in other things…” she was staring into her wine glass as if it might reveal some answer to her. “It was a privilege to be with her in the very end: to be able to repay a small fraction of the love she showed me, and companion her onwards to her next adventure.” 

There was a shuffling sound as Emmrich left his chair and took up the one closest to Amina, shifting it closer to hers. Still leaning forward, he held out a hand to her, his long, ringed fingers unfurling. Amina placed her hand in his and he softly pressed his lips to the back of her hand, his thumb brushing her fingers soothingly. 

“A remarkable woman. Thank you for sharing her story with me, darling.” 

“Thank you for listening.” 

“It’s what we do best.” 

She didn’t feel like crying. There was absolutely nothing wrong with crying when the time to weep insisted on itself, but while there was regret tied to Reda’s passing, there was little sorrow. Instead she was filled with a feeling of joy and love unique to situations like this that she didn’t have a word for - she wasn’t even sure such a word existed for the feeling. The closest thing she could think of was: grateful. 

“Want to hear about the time she and Gortan took me to the woods for a relaxing getaway when I was about nine, and I wound up getting stung in the ass by a wasp and hiding in a cave because I was so mortified at the thought of her tending to it?” 

“Ah, so your proclivity for refusing to accept assistance stretches back well into your childhood, I see.” His eyes glittered with mirth and she wanted to kiss him then: Emmrich had impeccable timing when it came to lightening the mood.

Instead she smirked and said, “Oh shut up and top up our wine, won’t you? You’ll need it for this one.” 

He acquiesced, his hand on her knee a physical reminder that he was there and would stay for as long as she’d have him. 

“To a remarkable woman.” Amina raised her glass, and Emmrich echoed her. 

Their cups met, and they drank to a beloved memory. Stories were told well into the afternoon, and as Emmrich walked her back to the Lighthouse, Amina’s heart felt full to bursting: perhaps the wine had gone to her head, but her face hurt from smiling and she couldn’t stop giggling as she walked arm in arm with her favourite person: she wouldn’t have wanted to spend this day with anyone else. 

[caffeinatedmunchkin]

[therookandthecrow]

I've finally created a Rook to romance each of the companions, and, of course, they are all elves.