#Neve Wilder

[darlingexistential]

Favourite books read so far this year:

Hold Me Under - Riley Nash

The Golden Raven - Nora Sakavic

Swan Hearts - Emmy Sanders

Bad Dogs - Riley Nash

Bet You - Neve Wilder

[i-dont-read]

my May 2024 book ratings

# of books read: 2

Teach Me (Extracurricular Activities #4) by Neve Wilder ★★★★☆

Chaos at Westbrook High (Kingston Brothers #3) by Bethany Winters ★★★★☆

[booksandwords]

Light Touch by Neve Wilder

Series: Rhythm of Love, #0.5 Read time: 1 Day Rating: 4/5 Stars

The Quote: I wanted to drink him in, spend hours exploring the variant shades of his body. — Quinn Marx

Warnings: None of note.

Light Touch is the story of severely light sensitivity artist Quinn Marx and musician Rufus 'Ru' Merrill. It is told mainly from Ru's perspective, through him we get to know the world and meet Quinn even without knowing his name or story. The story of their meeting is one of my faves. What I do like is the slight flip on the expected dynamic. I didn’t usually bother with musicians. I’d learned my lesson long ago. They were moody egoists, and in my world, there was only room for one moody egoist. Which might have also been the reason I’d been single for months. (Quinn) It isn't the musician with an ego the size of a small planet in this story, it's the artist. No strangers to egos themselves but usually not as frequently in fiction as musos. Quinn is a realist he is the dominating ego and will take no contest, it suits his whole deal really. Ru while having the ego keeps himself grounded, by working a bar and not signing with a label (aka doing it the hard way). This has a really simple flirtation and getting-together plot. It is more of an introduction to the world and some of the characters in it. I do wonder if Neve also wanted to challenge herself by writing a disability with respect.

Some comments and quotes

There are the beginnings of a discussion on bondage. That isn't the direction that Ru and Quinn's sexual relationship goes but I live for discussion of healthy boundaries and knowing your full compatibility. In a way, I think it totally suits Quinn's want or maybe just enjoyment to control.

There were dozens of other attractive people to look at— Nashville was full of them— but like that game I’d played on road trips as a kid where I searched for cars of a certain color, now he was all I could see. Except if he was a car, with that bone structure and sleek build, he’d have been a vintage Oldsmobile F-88, rare and expensive. — Oh... what a pretty analogy. Neve has a way with words. This description in particular just suits Nashville. (Rufus)

For those interested. Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd and Classical Gas by Mason Williams. I'd heard Classical Gas but I didn't know what it was called.

“Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man,” he crooned as I approached. His voice wasn’t half-bad. Deep and throaty. No Bob Dylan, but on key and as sexy as the rest of him. — This is the first time Quinn speaks and I think it charmed me more than more first lines. He and Ru have been flirting in their own way for a week by this point (Rufus, spoken words Quinn)

The scene in the Haunted House is fantastic to me. Weakness in a strong man is something that needs to be shown more. Ru and Quinn have cute costumes. I laughed too hard at Quinn's 🤣 (no spoilers). Ru's of course plays on a nickname 🧛🏼‍♂️.

Ru started laughing, and when I looked down at him, he laughed harder, saying, “This is never gonna happen, is it?” Marco blinked, taking a step backward. “I… should probably just go.” “You’re fine.” Ru and I said it in unison, which had us cracking up all over again. “God, that was creepy. Please don’t ever do that again. So…” Marco cleared his throat, and recentered his attention on me. “I’m just going to ignore Rufus Merrill’s dick— which, I must admit looks quite impressive even in its semisoft state— and ask you: Tequila, yes or no?” — I told you I adore Marco. This is just one reason why. He walks in on his best friend and a semi-naked guy Quinn really likes and just rolls with it. Marco has an ability to put people at ease I'm totally jealous of. (Rufus, Marco and Quinn)

Marco is a brilliant best friend. The moment in the living room while Ru and Marco are cleaning up makes me so happy. He is perfectly loyal and does his best to communicate the wish to protect Quinn while supporting his relationship.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Like smoke curling up from a fire.” And inconvenient. And endlessly annoying. But beautiful worked if it meant he kept touching me. My heart swelled and galloped in my chest, and I gave in and closed my eyes. “Photophobia—” — Not the first but the best time we see Quinn with his glasses off. I adore these mixed interpretations of it. Quinn's Photophobia is what gives him his severe light sensitivity. It's not one I'd read before, the closest being probably prosopagnosia in Holding Up the Universe (also a severe case). (Rufus and Quinn)

As promised by Neve we do meet characters from future Rhythm of Love books. We know of Les Graves from Dedicated, Quinn's ex, the one that made him swear off musicians. He is matched with his Porter & Graves bandmate Evan. Resonance. I adore Owen okay. We have only a couple of interactions with him. But he's just a ball of light and energy, fuelled almost entirely by sugar. He's the series twink, according to Quinn at least. He is matched with his boss at Grim's Record Repository, Dan Grim. I like the last lines of the blurb. "It’s a steamy slow burn bisexual age-gap, boss/employee romance with lots of banter and two obstinate heroes who really, really don’t want to want the very thing they both need."

I got this one free in one of the many book giveaways I got books from recently. But unlike some of the novellas, I downloaded this is one I would have been happy to pay for. Ru and Quinn have this brilliant game going on. Their game of cat and mouse that I haven't seen in a while. It uses disability well though I would suspect that Quinn has a severe case of it. As with so many of the novellas I'm ready recently 4⭐ because I wish it was just a little longer. I wanted to spend more time with these two and their chemistry.

[elle-enasalin]

Pictured: Tevinter Mage Losing her Absolute Shit

[felassan]

Some notes from today's new BioWare Blog post, which contained some new character insights and also gave some information on what is coming next and when:

Creative Performance Director Ashley Barlow helped to cast and direct over a thousand conversations in the game

Lucanis is bloodthirsty, calculated, and a workaholic. He was raised with high expectations and fears disappointing those he loves. To him, being an assassin is his only job and identity to be excellent at. He's constantly attuning himself to the kind of shifting terrain of every mission. There's a lot of love between him and Illario

As Zach is a comedian, he would easily find the humor in anything Lucanis was saying

Neve is a Shadow Dragons rebel who cares deeply about helping people and never leaves work half-done. Epler: " [she is] the working class hero trying to make her hometown better"

Emmrich is sincere, friendly, scholarly, sophisticated, eager to teach and learn, a well-meaning but oblivious academic, with a "hot nerdiness". He assumes everyone has an academic's curiosity so can be pedantic on select topics

The Mourn Watch are revered in Nevarra but odd at best and evil at worst outside of it

Nick: "I love the fact that the writers took Emmerich and explored the whole idea of death and the whole idea of necromancing by bringing kindness into it. I really responded to that and got into that and I know it sounds crazy, but it’s to not have this idea that death is vulgar or something to be terrified about, but something to actually engage with on so many levels. I just love the fact that the writers had the courage to do that in a game like this."

"Often Nick is just playing off of someone making a sound, and he takes it and internalizes it and gives it meaning and care, which is amazing to watch."

The world has changed a lot since DA:I

Harding has been leading teams through the wilderness while covering friends in battle

Harding loves her mom. She loves to write letters home and is always talking about her mother. She likes plants and raising plants. She has grown and is a veteran now, a trusted voice at the table

Footage of the full DA:TV @ SDCC companions panel should be available in a couple of weeks

Next month there will be a new roadmap, more looks at the game, and the reveal of the release date

[emphasis mine]

And this paragraph:

"Dragon Age: The Veilguard sees players embark on a perilous quest to face powerful Elven gods and stop the apocalyptic destruction they’re unleashing. You’ll step into the role of Rook, battling on the front lines alongside a deep and compelling cast of companions who together comprise The Veilguard, a group of heroes who have come together to stop the veil from breaking and bringing about the end of the world. Rook must become the unexpected leader who can rally and unite the group. Throughout the game, you can explore the detailed storylines of each companion, navigating love, loss, and complex choices that influence your relationships."

[source]

[hydrangeapartridge]

Rook stumbles upon Emmrich shaving

‌Rook unceremonisouly opened the flaps to the necromancer's tent.

"Emmrich we're leaving so-"

She stopped mid sentence, surprised to find her most recently recruited companion standing before a foldable table full of cosmetic products, holding a mirror with one hand and his cheeks lathered with shaving cream.

Emmrich turned to her, holding up his shaving brush.

"Ah Rook, apologies. It seems I am getting a bit tardy"

Rook froze. Oddly she felt like she just interrupted an intimate moment. Emmrich was dressed in his usual flanel pants and a cream undershirt. His crisp fancy white shirt and his green vest were neatly folded on a wooden stool. She never saw him in such a state of undress and given how many layers he usually wore, she almost felt as if she was intruding on him completely naked.

"I usually manage to be done before you wake. It seems I miscalculated today. I'll be quick, I promise" Emmrich told her before getting back to his previous occupation.

It never occurred to her that he shaved every day. Which was really silly of her obviously; he didn’t magically end up looking dashing and fresh when running around in the wilderness. Despite how he seemed to make everything look simple, it took work, even for him. His camp habits clashed with those of companions like Harding and Taash but Lucanis and Neve liked a bit more comfort in camp.

Rivain’s sun was up early and blazing hot, which explained why Rook didn’t sleep in today. But oh was she grateful it allowed her to see Emmrich grooming.

Despite her urge to stay focused on Emmrich, Rook’s attention was suddenly drawn to a moving form to her side. She soon spotted Manfred running towards Emmrich with a razor, like a disaster waiting to happen.

"Manfred shaves you?" She asked alarmingly.

"Of course not. Manfred is my assistant not my manservant" Emmrich replied, more amused than offended. He wipped his hands clean on a towel and took the razor from Manfred with a small "thank you" and an approving nod of his head.

"Right. I guess I wouldn't let him near my throat with those sharp blades either..." Rook commented, but her humour didn't seem to perturb Emmrich.

"Oh but you'd be surprised with how dexterous he is ! And everyday he makes progress. He's capable of serving tea without spilling a drop now!" Emmrich praised, visibly proud of his spirit protégé.

The necromancer turned to the mirror, which Manfred now held, and started angling the blade towards his cheek the second he stopped talking. Rook watched mesmerized as he shaved a first stripe and elegantly rinced the blade before he continued. Talking about being dexterous… The precisison of his movements, the way his long and elegant fingers, yet to be adorned with his numerous rings, handled the dangerous object near his adam apple, made something stirr inside her. Something warm and improper.

She watched the lean muscles of his arms flex, seeing them free of a shirt for the first time. Her eyes traveled down irresistibly, and below the upper part of his undershirt, she could spot the birth of a small patch of dark chest hair.

"Did you need something else Rook?" Emmrich's voice startled her. His tone was lower than she ever heard it and it made her stomach flip. She looked up to find his brown gaze on her, and it felt oddly intense in the dim light of the tent.

"No. We'll leave when you're done" She hastily declared, internally cursing herself for stuttering.

Emmrich smiled kindly, but there was a mysterious glint in his usually soft eyes. "I won't be long, I promise. I've got practice"

The way he said those last words shouldn't make her feel how she felt.

Once out of the tent, Rook flopped beside the dying campfire with an annoyed groan, burrying her face in her hands in embarassement. Shit. She knew him for a few days and already she was crushing on Professor Volkarin so hard it made her act stupid.

She told herself she would get a grip, but later that day, when she walked alongside him, enamored with the way he talked about studying the flora of Rivain, she caught wafts of the scent of his after shave, a citrussy but rich smell that she instantly wanted to breathe more of. She lost track of what he was saying as she though about caressing the smooth skin of his perfectly shaven cheeks, and inhale his cologne just under his ear where it would mix with a scent that was only his and that she longed to discover. She wondered how his well kept mustache would feel scratching her skin an-

He asked her a question then, and she had no clue what he just said so she only smiled like an idiot. He forgave her with a small chuckle, blaming it on the scorching sun, and repeated his inquiry like the kind gentleman he was.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. Damn she had it bad.

(More EmmRook on my blog or here on AO3)

[orionangeline]

Sasuke really was like I am NOT fucking around wit a phone charger and y'know what? He's right

One of my absolute favorite canon facts is that the naruto universe has cellphones and computers, but sasuke refuses to communicate any other way except by bird. He sent letters to naruto via his fucking hawk and meanwhile naruto is in a teams meeting

This fucking dramatic homosexual..........

[jenn2d2]

WIP Wednesday (3/12/25)

Keeping accountable and sharing what's rolling around in my brain.

Tagged from @serensama - thank you! Most of the folks I'd tag look like they are already, so if you want to, consider yourself tagged as well!

This is a bit of a bonus scene I'm writing that takes place after The Philosopher Contract (which should have a new chapter tomorrow if everyone will behave, or not, as is their nature.) In Antiva, Rook (Carina) de Riva together in their rooms at the Dellamorte estate, about a year after game.

Rook and Lucanis gossip about Illario.

"Mierde," Lucanis rolled his eyes. "I'm probably going to regret knowing, aren't I?"

"You're gonna regret it more if you find out in Bellara's serials. Or if Caterina gets wind of it first."

"Illario's not sleeping with Elek is he? I expressly told him not to do that. The two of them smirking at each other all the time is more than any of us can handle," Lucanis gave a bit of a huff, but there was a hint of a smile around the edges of his mouth. "Besides, it would piss of Neve, and she might just freeze him to death."

"He might still piss Neve off, but that's not gonna be why."

"Mae?" Lucanis looked at her with wide eyes. "Please tell me he did not say anything inappropriate to Maevaris Tilani? Or Ashur? Tarquin might actually kill him."

"No, none of that," Rook laughed at how increasingly nonplussed he was as his guesses got wilder and potentially more catastrophic.

"NOT THE ARCHON, Rook, I beg you," his eyes boggled. "Please tell me he hasn't been flirting with THE ARCHON."

"What? NO! Maker's breath, Lucanis," Rook roared with laughter, startling the kitten in her lap.

[corporatecoinings]

(Snowy) forest + wolf (or canine) themed ID pack

Crafted by Alaska's paws 🐺🐾 Header mask | /fleaseditstuff Divider | Made by Alaska (me) (I prefer it that only I use the divider.)

Names

Alaska ✦ Alder ✦ Alpha ✦ Alpine ✦ Arctic ✦ Ash ✦ Aspen ✦ Aura ✦ Aurora ✦ Avalanche ✦ Birch ✦ Blizzard ✦ Boreal/Borealis ✦ Boris ✦ Brutus ✦ Canine ✦ Cedar ✦ Cinder ✦ Colorado ✦ Comet ✦ Crecent ✦ Crystal ✦ Dakota ✦ Dawn ✦ Diamond ✦ Douglas ✦ Dusk/Dusky ✦ Ebony ✦ Eclipse ✦ Elm ✦ Everest ✦ Evergreen ✦ Fang ✦ Fawn ✦ Fenrir ✦ Fern ✦ Forest/Forrest ✦ Frost ✦ Frostine ✦ Glacier ✦ Gray ✦ Grove/Grover ✦ Howl ✦ Icecap ✦ Icicle ✦ Ivory/Ivy ✦ January ✦ Juniper ✦ Lixue ✦ Lumi ✦ Luna ✦ Maine ✦ Mist/Misty ✦ Miyuki ✦ Montana ✦ Moon ✦ Neve ✦ North ✦ Permafrost ✦ Pine ✦ Polar ✦ Polaris ✦ Redwood ✦ River ✦ Rocky ✦ Sable ✦ Siberia ✦ Silas ✦ Silver ✦ Sirius ✦ Smoke/Smokey ✦ Snowcap ✦ Snowfall ✦ Snowflake ✦ Snowstorm ✦ Spirit ✦ Spruce ✦ Storm ✦ Summit ✦ Sylvester ✦ Taiga ✦ Tempest ✦ Timber ✦ Tundra ✦ Twilight ✦ Valor ✦ Vega ✦ Vixen ✦ Wilder ✦ Winter ✦ Yukina ✦ Zeus

Pronouns

arctic/arctics ✦ arf/arfs ✦ bark/barks ✦ birch/birchs ✦ bite/bites ✦ bloom/blooms ✦ branch/branchs ✦ breeze/breezes ✦ breezy/breezys ✦ canine/canines ✦ chew/chews ✦ chill/chills ✦ chilly/chillys ✦ claw/claws ✦ cold/colds ✦ creek/creeks ✦ dark/darks ✦ fang/fangs ✦ fauna/faunas ✦ fern/ferns ✦ fir/firs ✦ flora/floras ✦ fluff/fluffs ✦ fluffy/fluffys ✦ forest/forests ✦ fur/furs ✦ growl/growls ✦ grr/grrs ✦ holly/hollys ✦ howl/howls ✦ leaf/leafs ✦ luna/lunas ✦ lunar/lunars ✦ moon/moons ✦ night/nights ✦ nocturn/nocturns ✦ nocturnal/nocturnals ✦ nox/noxs ✦ paw/paws ✦ pine/pines ✦ river/rivers ✦ ruff/ruffs ✦ sap/saps ✦ sapling/saplings ✦ shadow/shadows ✦ snow/snows ✦ snowflake/snowflakes ✦ spruce/spruces ✦ thorn/thorns ✦ timber/timbers ✦ tree/trees ✦ tundra/tundras ✦ wind/winds ✦ winter/winters ✦ wolf/wolfs ✦ wood/woods ✦ 🐺/🐺s ✦ 🐾/🐾s ✦ 🌲/🌲s ✦ 🌳/🌳s ✦ 🌿/🌿s ✦ 🍁/🍁s ✦ 🍂/🍂s ✦ 🍃/🍃s ✦ 🍄/🍄s ✦ 🪨/🪨s ✦ 🪵/🪵s ✦ 🌑/🌑s ✦ 🌒/🌒s ✦ 🌓/🌓s ✦ 🌔/🌔s ✦ 🌕/🌕s ✦ 🌖/🌖s ✦ 🌗/🌗s ✦ 🌘/🌘s ✦ 🌙/🌙s ✦ ⭐/⭐s ✦ ☁️/☁️s ✦ 🌨️/🌨️s ✦ ❄️/❄️s

Genders

Alonesnowaesic ✦ Auroralupincryin ✦ Fogforestic ✦ Forestgender ✦ Forestwolfgender ✦ Forestwolfsprintic ✦ Howlgender ✦ Neigean ✦ Nightforfulmoonic ✦ Northwolfic ✦ Noxlibic ✦ Redwoodgender ✦ Sillywolfic ✦ Snowfallgender ✦ Snowmoonlic ✦ Snowynightgender ✦ Starforestaesic ✦ Tundrawolfgender ✦ Wolfbitic ✦ Wolfforestic ✦ Wolfgender ✦ Wolfmoonbodiement ✦ Wolfmoonic ✦ Wolforigender ✦ Wolfpawic ✦ Wolfplushigender ✦ Wolfstarmoonic ✦ Wolfthing

Feel free to use this ID pack however you want. For hoarding labels, for figuring out your identity, for system members, so on and so forth.

[Nemesis protects this blog! we are pro-endo, anti-radqueer, anti-transid, and anti-proship, but our labels are for everybody; unless we specify a specific reason as to why what we have coined is exclusive in the post. please dont come here with ill intention, we are not afraid to block!]

[jukkaricity]

Companion banter with Alectris - Lace Harding edition

Alectris and Harding get along like a house on fire, despite their backgrounds and upbringing being as different as they could get.

Alectris: Did I get it right? You worked for the Inquisition? 

Harding: Yes! I’ve done a lot of scouting for them, seen most of Southern Thedas. 

A: You have to tell me all about it. 

*depending on Inquisitor’s race*

(qunari) A: Is it true that the Inquisitor was a Qunari spy? 

(elf) A: I heard that the Inquisitor was Dalish and could shape shift!

(human) A: Someone said that the Inquisitor was actually a Tevene Dreamer? 

(dwarf) A: The Ambassadoria said that the Inquisitor came from a forgotten Thaig!

H: What!? No!

***

Harding: You’re with the Shadow Dragons, right? Like Neve? 

Alectris: Somewhat, yes.  Have you met Lorelei, the front? My shop does something similar. 

H: Your shop? 

A: My family has owned the place for a few generations. Don’t get hung up on that. 

***

Alectris: Lace? Is it true that you only have surface dwarves in Ferelden? 

Harding: What do you mean? If a dwarf sees the sky it makes them lose their caste, so they come up and live on the surface. How else could it be in Ferelden? 

A: Well, the dwarven embassy is carved deep into the ground beneath Minrathous, some of the emissaries never leave the deepest chambers. 

H: You’re kidding? I thought that Tevinter only respects humans? 

A: I guess the desperate need of lyrium puts things into perspective. 

***

Harding: Do you ever get tangled up between your sword and the magic? 

Alectris: I’m sorry? 

H: I mean, do you sometimes mix your moves up? Throw your sword instead of a fireball? 

A: *laughs* Doesn’t really happen anymore. But you should have seen me flailing when I started. 

A: You’re dealing with this new magic thing way better than I did. 

***

Harding: Have I heard some lute from the armory? 

Alectris: I… No, surely not. Maybe someone playing in the kitchen? 

H: I might have believed you if I wasn’t there at the time. 

H: Sounded really good too! 

***

Alectris: So… is It true that magister Dorian Pavus was part of the Inquisiton? 

Harding: Yes! He was part of Inquisitor's inner circle! Traveled with the team nearly everywhere!

A: *laughs* I cannot believe this. Dorian Pavus, his fancy clothes and even fancier mustache in the Ferelden wilderness. 

A: What would I pay to have seen it. 

***

Harding: Alectris! When did you learn inquisition songs? 

A: Some of them I knew before, just had no idea where they came from. 

A: A few others I had to ask around for. 

H: That’s amazing! Oh, we could have a singing evening instead of the book club!

H: Do you have a favourite song?

A: Oh, yes. I like that song about a certain Inquisition scout. 

H: What? No!

***

A: Scout Lace Harding…

H: Yes? 

A: Swift and cunning…

H: Stop it! It’s embarrassing! A: Her arrows cut you down to size H: If you don’t stop I might as well! 

***

H: Do you know how to dance? 

A: Yes. And whatever your next question is, no. 

H: I didn’t even say anything!

A: I know. But no, I’d give my leg to a dracolisk before I agree to anything. 

[atimefordragons]

okay, so I've played the choice™️ three times, twice as a shadow dragon, once as a crow, and tbh, people are right that the shadow dragons are wayyyy meaner about it. personally, I don't think it's necessarily bad that their reaction is so harsh, but the feelings do hurt dude, and it is a little bit unfair. like Rook is just a random, they are mid-ranked at best in both organizations, and actually lowkey on the bottom end cause they were chased outta town in both the shadow dragons and crow backstories. Plus, they split the team in half, so Rook personally showing up makes a difference only in game mechanics, not within the story itself, since the team is story wise more or less evenly matched in power, thus it's unfair for them to only get mad at Rook, like this one randoms presence would significantly make a difference. like, the random's choice matters outside of the story, but as beings in the story, they should not be aware of that. and it's wilder when a crow!Rook chooses to prioritize their own city over minrathous. Tarquin's reaction made sense, since this stranger technically freed the gods and led to his city being attacked, but Neve acted like Rook personally called a dragon to attack her city. like, that's not Rook's fault babe, and you disrupted the ritual with me, so why you mad at me? when I saved minrathous as a shadow rook, Lucanis was devasted and broke up with me (and I have other issues with that mechanic), but no one was mad, or at least aggressively mean, Teia understood I choose to prioritize my city, and the only one actually mad for a few interactions was Jacobus, who got over it fairly quick, and his reaction was painted as a traumatized child misplacing or redirecting their anger. again, I don't think it's like "bad writing" or whatever, that they're so harsh, but it is mean, and kinda unfair.

[ronqueesha]

Is thirsty thursday still a thing? Because I've got a thot in my brain.

Since elves in Thedas can't grow facial hair, I headcanon that they don't have any body hair at all. My Rook (and my warden) are totally smooth from the neck down.

But that just means Nerio is completely OBSESSED with the body hair of their human partners.

I'm fixated on the image of Nerio lying naked in bed with Lucanis, their slender fingers running through his chest hair, just feeling it while kissing his neck. Their legs rubbing against his just to feel the difference between them.

With Neve, they adore her bush, and burying their face in it while going down on her. They giggle every time they feel it brush against their nose, which makes Neve laugh even as she wraps her thighs around their head.

They simultaneously learn just how ticklish Neve is when Nerio's curious fingers can't help but brush against the hair in her armpits.

Nerio is astounded when one of Lucanis' beard hairs grows in white, and pleads with him not to shave it. They immediately look over the rest of him to see if there's more.

I've never written a character who has a scent kink before. It's one of those things I really don't enjoy IRL, but it's something I've thought about exploring in smut.

But it feels like if Nerio is so obsessed with human body hair, they might also enjoy the scents that go with it. Like during sex, Nerio likes them both to get rough and vigorous, work up a nice sweat that catches in their hair, and creates a scent Nerio finds irresistible. And that horny association follows them even when Neve and Lucanis are doing decidedly unsexy things, like hiking through the wilderness or fighting enemies.

[lillotte17]

The Rook

AN: Mildly endgame spoiler stuff if you are really paying attention. I have no idea how far I think I'll get with this, but the idea showed up and kicked down my door to make me write it, so here we are!

~

“Why are you always arranging clandestine meetings for us in seedy bars that stink of piss and stale beer? They never go well.”

“Hey now, I didn’t pick this one!” Varric laughs as they step out the door and back into the damp streets of Minrathous. The buildings in this part of the city are shabby and moldering. Covered in peeling paint and bright with spellwork glinting off the dark cobblestones. The Archon’s Palace floats ominously above their heads like a circling vulture. “This one was all Neve’s idea.”

“You never take me anywhere nice.”

“Well, I’m sure Dumat Plaza is going to be downright cozy.”

“Let’s hope that it’s not too far from the place where Solas is conducting his ritual.”

“Fingers crossed,” Varric hums in agreement. “I’m a little surprised that it’s not out in some crumbling ruin somewhere.”

“Relieved that you don’t have to go tromping through the wilderness again?”

“You’re not wrong,” he huffs, “But I was actually thinking about collateral damage. Minrathous is huge, and the last plan Solas had to bring down the Veil leveled a mountain top.”

His companion stops walking abruptly.

“…Rook?” Varric calls back to them.

They don’t respond, lost in thought. The rain soaks through the dark wool of their hood. Silence stretches our for a few moments before the dwarf finally walks back and places a broad warm hand on their arm.

“Hey. Don’t worry too much, alright?” he says, “We’re going to get there in time to stop him.”

They nod their head once. Tug their hood down a little further. Adjust the mask covering the entirety of their face.

“We should find Harding. We need to move fast if we want to rescue your detective from those Venatori. The Veil feels…strange.”

“I’ll take your word for it, kid.”

They don’t get far before things to go sideways, as they always seem to.

The Archon’s Palace begins targeting people from above. A handful of roving spotlights, possibly searching for them. The Veil buckles, snaps, and finally rips wide. A dozen or more rifts, not unlike the ones the that had ravaged the South a decade ago, blink into existence across the Minrathous skyline. Which means demons. A lot of them.

“Demons. Ventatori. Fade rifts. Feeling nostalgic yet, Varric?” Rook grunts, landing a shot at the dead center of a despair demon, watching its essence shatter and disappear into nothing.

“Yeah yeah, so long as no one asks me to go digging around for any more of those creepy Fade shards again, I’ll fight all the damn demons you want.”

They find their wayward scout a few blocks later, protecting civilians. Red hair and freckles. Always ready to pull out a cheery smile or a nocked arrow, depending on what the situation called for. She’s already got the lay of the land, despite being raised out in Fereldan farmlands, and easily begins navigating them through cramped Tevinter streets.

“You know, I’m honestly surprised that this isn’t more of a regular occurrence in Minrathous.” Harding pants out after another bout of fighting.

“Oh, demons an cultists are everyday fare in this city,” Rook confirms with a dry laugh as the last enemy falls and the way clears for them to press forwards once again. “But I think there’s something to be said for the scale of the current crisis.”

The allegedly imperiled Neve Gallus is waiting for them in Dumat Plaza, calm and cool as the barrier of ice she had thrown up to halt the Venatori cultists who had tried to drag her off.

“Varric. Harding. Not the worst timing.” Neve greets, “And..?”

“Rook.” They reply with a nod of their head.

“Like the chess piece?”

“One of the strongest pieces on the board. Tends to think in straight lines, though.” Varric chuckles, giving them a good natured pat on the back.

“Someone around here has to.” Rook grumbles in reply, although they don’t sound mad about it.

“So, it’s one of Varric’s nicknames?”

“Seems to be.”

“But it’s how you’re introducing yourself to people?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Hm. Rook. I think the Viper’s mentioned you before. You’re one of the Shadows?”

“I’ve done a fair amount of work for them. But they’ve asked me to keep some distance, for now. Apparently the way I free slaves is too conspicuous.”

“I see you’ve picked up some of Ashur’s charming fashion sense.”

“Can’t let the Orlesians have all the fun.”

“I hate to interrupt the witty banter, but we do have an ancient elvhen ritual to be stopping.” Varric interjects.

“Sorry, never could resist a good mystery,” Neve grins.

“But you have a lead, yes?” Harding presses, full of hope.

Neve beckons them with a wave of her hand, turns on her heel, and begins whisking them down a dark alley, through another building and out into the city proper again. An ominous rumble shakes the rafters of the roof above them. The human mage pauses for a moment to glance back at them, dark eyes brimming with questions and concern.

“You’ve seen him?” Rook asks as they trot up beside her. “You’ve seen Solas?”

“No, I haven’t. Not in person.” Neve shakes her head. “But I did find hints of old magic. Very old. Similar to what you get in elvhen ruins.

She stops walking long enough to point with her staff.

“I traced it to a building beneath Our Lady of Victory. That’s where your man is hiding.”

“Best news we’ve had all night.” Varric sighs. “Let’s get there and stop him before this ritual gets any worse.”

“Worse?” Neve gapes. “This ritual is already drawing more power than I’d expect from a dozen mages. You told me he was working alone.”

“I also told you he was an ancient elvhen god.” Varric sighs.

“And he’s not working alone.” Rook tells her plainly. “He’s got his own fanatical followers, just like the other gods. But he tends to keep them at a distance, when he can. Reduces the odds of betrayal.”

“Who would have thought that the god of lies would have trust issues?” Harding quips.

“An elvhen god,” Neve repeats, tightening her grip on her staff. “Well, whatever he is, he’s causing trouble in my city. We’ve got to stop him- Let’s go.”

“That’s the idea, Slick.”

The group continues on, fighting cultist mages and demons as needed. Stepping over far too many corpses. Winding their way down to the canals before finding the passage to the building under the statue Neve had told them about.

“Looks old,” Harding notes, pausing long enough to study some of the paintings on the roughcut stone walls, “I wonder how long this has been here.”

“Solas has been around before Minrathous itself, who knows how long this has been here.” Varric hums.

“Tevinter was built on the ruins of Elvhenan,” Rook says, “Bones upon bones. For all we know, this could have existed before the fall of the empire.”

They stop beside Harding.

“That looks like… A magister? And sentinels? The Dread Wolf howling at the Black city locked behind the Veil, maybe?”

“He never could resist the urge to paint cryptic shit on the walls.” Varric grumbles.

“So, you think this is Solas’ hideout?” Neve wonders. “Seems pretty sparse down here.”

“One of them,” Varric replies. “If I had a sovereign for every bolt hole of his that we’ve tracked down over the years, I could retire to Rivain and live like a king.”

“You’re the Viscount of Kirkwall, Varric. And the sole heir to a powerful family in the dwarven merchants’ guild.” Rook laughs. “Don’t try to tell me you’re in this for the money.”

“No, but the money would still be nice.”

“The next time we send an update back to the Inquisition, I’ll make sure to add a note saying that you’re expecting a bonus.” Harding grins. She tosses Rook a wink. “I know some people.”

“Hazard pay for everyone!” Rook cheers.

The Tevene detective nudges a pile of chains on the floor with the toe of her metal leg.

“Broken. Looks like Solas has been freeing slaves.” She notes with a hint of surprise.

“Solas hates slavery.” Varric tells her. “One of the few things we actually agreed on.”

“Solas said the other gods were tyrants who oppressed his people. He was trying to help them.” Harding explains.

“By starting a rebellion, among other things.” Varric agrees. “And everything went to shit, as usual. That’s why he locked them away behind the Veil in the first place.”

“You mean he created the Veil?” Neve asks.

“Yup.” Says Varric.

“Shit.”

“Yup.” Rook echoes.

There really is not much down here beyond more crumbling ruins, though. No furniture. No books. No ancient elf trying to end the world.

“Is that a light up ahead?” Rook wonders.

“Feels like magic.” Neve confirms.

“I don’t think I see a way to get to where it’s coming from though…” Rook trails off.

“Over here!” Harding waves them over to a crack in the wall just wide enough for them to all press through.

“I can’t- imagine- Chuckles- squeezing his big- bald- head- through this thing every time he came down here.” Varric grates out as he wriggles his way through, somewhat short of breath. “If Bianca got a scratch, I’m never speaking to him again.”

“More paintings,” Harding points out, ignoring the other dwarf’s complaints.

“Looks like the ancient elves were binding dragons,” says Rook thoughtfully.

“That sounds bad.” Harding winces.

“Are we surprised that the evil gods were doing evil shit?” Varric scowls.

Another room. A desk this time. A few small magical artifacts. A work station. A narrow cot with a thin blanket and -inexplicably- a mandolin. Everything cold, surrounded by piles of dust and rumble.

“This place is just…sad.” Rook decides, somewhat subdued, reaching out to pluck a single string on the abandoned instrument. Their fingers brush across the blanket beside it before pulling away.

“Hey, don’t feel too bad for him,” Varric says bumping their elbow with his own, “Solas chose to live like this. Probably as some form of penance. Although, I personally think he just enjoys being miserable.”

“I was also expecting a bit more from an evil villain’s lair,” Neve smirks. “Something with a touch more romance, perhaps. Panache. A bit of drama.”

“Well, once we talk him down, you can give him your scathing review on his living arrangements.”

“I’m not sure I have much room to talk, truth be told.” She laughs.

“He doesn’t need to know that.”

“I think that the source of the magic Neve felt might be through that door,” Harding calls out, pointing at the only visible exit to the room they are standing in, “I can see the same light from earlier at the bottom.”

“Excellent scouting, as always, Harding,” Rook praises, striding over to pull the door back on its hinges. “Not even locked. The Dread Wolf is getting sloppy.”

“Or he just figured that it wouldn’t matter if anyone managed to reach him at this point.”

“We are thinking in positives, Varric.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

“Ugh.” Neve makes a face. “Why is this room flooded?”

“The building is old, and we were near the canals?” Harding suggests.

“Just be grateful it only goes up to your ankles, Slick.”

“An elvuian,” Rook breathes out. Tipping their head back to see the whole of the enormous glowing mirror covering the wall along the right side of the room.

“A what?” Neve blinks in the blinding blue light.

“More old elf shit.” Varric sighs.

“They’re kind of like magic doorways. They can transport you almost anywhere.” Harding explains.

“Solas uses them to get around. Half the reason keeping up with him has been such a pain in the ass.”

“He must have gone through it,” Rook says, their hands balling into fists at their sides. “Alright, everyone be careful stepping through. We don’t know where this connects to.”

“Do you think he’s not actually in the city?”

“Let’s find out.”

It’s still raining on the other side, but now there are open skies and grass underfoot. A heavy line of trees surrounds the jagged elvhen ruins looming up ahead of them. The tops of eight enormous statues peer out from the crumbling walls, each bearing the symbol of one of the elvhen gods. The Creators.

Varric’s boots squelch loudly in the mud. He turns and makes a face at Rook.

“Well. So much for not having to tromp through the wilderness.” He grouses.

“I know, I know,” Rook laughs, “Drinks are on me later, alright? Just try to think of your favorite terrible ale instead of the water leaking into your shoes.”

“You always know how to cheer me up.”

There were demons here, too. Driven mad by the realities of the world they had been pulled into by the Dread Wolf’s ritual. Even so, it does not take the team long to reach the source of all the magical turmoil.

A lone elf standing at the top of a crumbling set of stairs, bathed in the glow of his own summoned power. Taller than most elves of this age, with broad shoulders and a regal bearing. His back is turned to them, lost in the intricacies of the spell he is weaving.

“So, do we have a plan here, or what?” Neve wonders, sizing up the elvhen mage with mild apprehension.

“…I’m going to talk to him.”

“Varric-”

“It’ll be fine, Rook.”

“But-”

“Solas is doing this because he can’t see any other options.” The dwarf says firmly. “So, he needs someone to sell him a way out. I’m a businessman, and a storyteller, and a friend. I’ve got a reputation to uphold for being irresistibly charming. And…if he won’t listen to me, then he’ll hear from Bianca.”

He pats the crossbow in question while the others exchange worried glances.

“I could take the shot from here,” Harding offers, frowning with uncertainty. “It’s clear. I don’t have to aim for anything vital, I could just-”

“No.” Varric insists, shaking his head. “You’d just piss him off, and if this comes to straight up fight, we’re all dead.”

He turns to walk up the stairs when Rook snags him by the elbow.

“Wait, Varric. Maybe-”

“You’re my second in command, remember, Rook?” He says gently, placing his large hand over their much smaller one. “That means you need to watch out for the team while I take care of this. I promise, if it seems like things are going south, I’ll yell for you. Alright?”

They take a half step closer, bowing their head, the smooth silver of their mask edged in blue from Solas’ magic.

“I don’t like it.”

He smiles.

“I know, kid.”

“I just feel like… Like we’re missing something. Like it can’t possibly be as simple as ending the chase like this after all this time.”

“Not every story has to end with some big flashy climax, you know.”

“All of yours do.”

“Only the ones I want to sell.”

“Think you can sell this one?”

“Won’t know until I try.”

He pauses for a moment, taking a long look at them. Short. Scrawny. Soaked from head to heel.

“I know it’s not what you want, but trust me- This is the right call.” He says quietly. “If we’re wrong about this- If I’m wrong about this- Someone has to be ready in the wings to stand against whatever magic crap Chuckles pulls out of his ass. That’s you. It’s got to be you. You know that.”

Rook takes a deep shaky breath. Nodding slowly in acceptance. They reluctantly let go of his elbow.

The dwarf turns away and walks up the stairs. Magic buzzes and crackles through the air around them, making it difficult to catch his words. However, the figure standing above them stills in apparent surprise for a moment before deciding to stop and face his former friend.

Solas has sharp features. Distinct, even from this distance. Untouched by the passage of time.

He looks tired.

His expression is fluid for a few seconds. Pleasure melting into mild annoyance before finally settling into something firm and unrelenting. Stubborn.

Bianca shatters in Varric’s hands, tumbling down the stairs in fragments of polished wood and finely crafted metal.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying!” Harding complains.

“It doesn’t seem to be going very well.” Neve Frowns. “We need to do something about this ritual while Varric has him distracted.”

Rook glances around for solutions. Nothing seems to be immediately forthcoming. Then they raise their arm, pointing to the far corner of the ritual site.

“There. The scaffolding.” They say. “The statue on that side is barely standing on its own. If we could bring it down…”

“Would that kill him?” Harding asks.

“I…I don’t think so. But if his concentration is broken, it should at least give us some more time.”

“We can’t topple it from here.” Neve frowns. “Too far. Even for one of my spells. And to get over to it, we’d have to walk through raw magic. That’s suicide.”

“Someone’s got to keep the demons off of Varric while he’s dealing with Solas, too.” Harding points out. Her brow knits with worry as she stares at Rook. “Are you going to go anyway?”

Rook’s gaze seems to move from the statue, to Varric’s broad shoulders, and back again.

“I… No. I have to- I told Varric I would watch his back. I can’t just leave him here.”

“Well, I’m not just going to stand around and wait for some ancient elvhen mage to ruin the world,” Neve scowls, striding away at a clipped pace.

“Neve, wait- Oh, void take it all!” Rook curses, “Harding, go with her! Get her there safe. I’ll keep an eye on these two.”

“You got it!”

“Nothing crazy, understood?” They call after the dwarf as she races to catch up with the human mage, “I want everyone to walk away from this in one piece!”

The scout raises a hand in acknowledgement. The gesture does little to soothe their nerves. One or two demons try to pick a fight, but not enough to even warrant a decent distraction from their own thoughts. They begin to pace, trying to get a better view of the elf and the dwarf as they continue their argument while still staying out of sight.

They wish they could hear what they were saying.

They hear it when the statue falls, though.

Everything afterwards seems to flow over them in slow motion. Solas yelling in anger and surprise. Varric reaching to grab something from his hands. A scuffle. Varric falling, his body heavy and loose as it follows Bianca to the foot of the stairs. The Veil rips wide, two dark towering figures looming out of the bright blue-green depths of the Fade.

Rook screams. Wordless with rage and guilt and grief. Rushing out into the open to throw themselves to their knees at their friend’s side. There is a dagger, strange and humming. Deep. Too Deep. Too much blood.

They raise their head, and see Solas looking at them.

There are tears streaming down his face.

Something crackles. Thunders. Blasts out wide and bright and searing.

Rook flies backwards like a puppet with cut strings. Their head collides with stone. Their vision swims. Their ears ring. A strong arm wraps around their waist. Somewhere in the midst of all of it, they think they might still be screaming. Or someone else is screaming. Or crying. Something is very wrong.

And then everything is black.

~

In the blackness, there is a face. Then a figure. Proud and tall. Surrounded by shadow and queer grey light.

Solas.

Solas, standing in ruins and rubble. Separated from them only by a chasm and the fury written plainly on his face. He does not move to strike them, however. He does not draw his magic to his hands to blast them with a spell. He simply snaps and snarls at them like a wolf caught in a trap.

“You have no idea what you have done.”

Rook gets to their feet, limbs sore and knees shaky. They dust off their pants. Rub their hands a little, testing the strength of their left wrist.

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea of what I’ve done, actually.” They reply casually.

“So, it was your intention to release Elgar’nan and Ghila’nain out into the world, where they may freely blight the innocent and raze whole cities to the ground?” He growls out.

They recoil half a step, and their form flickers briefly. A flash of pale hair, and the scent of lavender. Solas shakes his head, as though clearing away the remnants of a dream. When he looks at them again, their stance is strong. Defiant. They are small and dark and sharp as a knife. The silver of their mask cutting through the gloom around them.

“My intention was to stop you from tearing down the Veil.” They gesture to their surroundings. “A feat I believe you once said would ‘burn this world in raw chaos.’ And since we both seem to be standing somewhere in the Fade, and you aren’t running off through another eluvian, I’m guessing that I must have succeeded. You were stopped, and the world wasn’t destroyed.”

“I was not destroying the world.”

“Yet.”

He takes a sharp breath in through his nose.

“When you disrupted my ritual, the magical energies pulled me here, into the Fade.”

“I think that sounds very fitting.” Rook says, folding their arms across their chest. “If I got caught in the same blast, then I guess we’re going to be neighbors. I’ll bake you a pie.”

“Your physical body is merely unconscious.” Solas sneers, waving a hand dismissively. “But you shed a few drops of blood at the ritual site. Enough for a tenuous connection.”

“Ah. So, it’s blood magic, then.”

“Firstly, I abhor the use of blood magic.” Solas barks, nearly to the point of shouting. “Secondly, had I the power to control you, I would have already used it.”

Rook cocks their head to one side as they regard him in silence for a moment.

“…Magic is magic, it matters only how it is used.”

Solas blinks at that.

“Excuse me?”

“That was what you told me, wasn’t it?” They ask, reaching up slowly to pull away their mask and lower their hood. Soft curls pulled back into a long simple braid. Vallaslin. Eyes nearly as haunted as his own. “When we were talking together at Haven…all those years ago.”

It is his turn to stagger back a step, almost as though he had been struck. The anger in his face chased away by a sudden flood of sorrow. He shakes his head again, as though it will somehow change the visage of the person standing before him.

“Hello, Solas.”

“Vhenan.”

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard Steam "About This Game" section -

"Enter the world of Thedas, a vibrant land of rugged wilderness, treacherous labyrinths, and glittering cities – steeped in conflict and secret magics. Now, a pair of corrupt ancient gods have broken free from centuries of darkness and are hellbent on destroying the world. Thedas needs someone they can count on. Rise as Rook, Dragon Age’s newest hero. Be who you want to be and play how you want to play as you fight to stop the gods from blighting the world. But you can’t do this alone – the odds are stacked against you. Lead a team of seven companions, each with their own rich story to discover and shape, and together you will become The Veilguard. Rally the Veilguard and defy the gods in Dragon Age™: The Veilguard, an immersive single-player RPG where you become the leader others believe in."

"UNITE A BATTERED WORLD Enter Thedas, a vibrant world of rugged wilderness, treacherous labyrinths, and glittering cities. The world is teetering on a knife’s edge while corrupt gods unleash havoc across the continent. Nations war, and factions splinter. Who will you trust? From the Arlathan Forest to the back alleys of Minrathous, this is a broken world. Your actions will affect the fate of Thedas forever. - Dramatic Single-Player Campaign — When corrupt Elven Gods threaten Thedas, lead the charge to save it. Rook isn’t afraid of a fight, no matter the odds. No matter the cost. - Vibrant & Diverse Environments — Enter a vivid fantasy world, and experience imaginative new locations as well as some you’ve heard of but never seen. - Larger-than-life Foes — Battle darkspawn, demons from beyond the Veil, dragons that rule the skies, and unique enemies as you advance your quest and fight for Thedas’s future."

"RALLY THE VEILGUARD Rally a team of 7 companions, each with rich lives and deep backstories. These are characters to befriend and even fall in love with. Among them, an assassin, a necromancer, a detective, each and all bringing their own expertise and unique abilities to the fight. You are never alone — decide who to take into battle, and together face down demons, dragons, and corrupt gods. - Recruit Distinct Companions — Your team is full of individuals with grim and wondrous histories, their own personal struggles and motivations, and rare skills that’ll help you survive. You’ll fight alongside Harding: The Scout, Neve: The Detective, Emmrich: The Necromancer, Taash: The Dragon Hunter, Davrin: The Warden, Bellara: The Veil Jumper, and Lucanis: The Mage Killer. - Rich Companion Stories — Deepen relationships with each companion and learn more about them on your adventures in Thedas. Your choices in these stories will impact how they develop, and completing them might unlock powerful abilities. Create memories with your team that will deepen your experiences in Thedas and give you more to fight for."

"BECOME THE LEADER OTHERS BELIEVE IN Select from different races and combat classes, customize your appearance, choose your character’s backstory, and begin your journey as Rook, Dragon Age’s newest hero. The choice is yours. On your adventures, you’ll gain new abilities and discover unique, powerful artifacts to enhance your own combat style. Brace yourself: there are tough decisions to be made, allies to inspire, and a fight that needs every sword, staff, and bow you can muster. - Be Who You Want To Be — Craft your personalized Rook with a robust character creator. Choose from a diverse set of appearance options for Human, Qunari, Dwarf, and Elf lineages. - Choose Your Way To Play — Select from 3 classes (Warrior, Mage, and Rogue), each with 2 distinct weapon types and unique abilities you can select between mid-combat. Experience new strategic depth as you combine fast-paced attacks, parries, and dodges with the companion ability wheel to exploit enemy weaknesses and seize victory with devastating combat combos. Customize a combat style that works for you. - Deep RPG Progression — Level up your Rook and companions with their own skill trees. Choose perks and combat abilities as you climb towards more powerful specializations. WARNING: See important flashing images and other health and safety information at www.ea.com/legal." [link]

[source: Steam]

[hemerasiae]

Seeing Crescentia again always makes Dhavi'fen smile. Even after everything they've been through together, and sometimes even because of it. Few would understand what the Inquisitor had been through trying to hold the world together better than Rook could, though Dhavi wishes that burden hadn't had to fall on her sister's shoulders.

As always, she welcomes Cres into the clan with a warm embrace, holding her at arm's length to smile at her. "How are you?" she asks with a soft voice. "How's Neve?" And they fall into that soft level of conversation they usually do for some time, checking on each other, talking about everything and nothing. There is not as much laughter as there once was, but there is always love.

After a while, they reach a lull in the conversation, and Dhavi'fen clears her throat. "I wanted to ask something that... may upset you. And I understand if the answer is no."

She sighs and looks at Crescentia with a weighty expression. "I wanted to know if I could use the dagger, just once, to get Solas out."

It’s nice to be back with Clan Lavellan. While some faces are absent, many familiar ones remain, and she takes her time to greet them before meeting with Dhavi’fen.

Crescentia’s body has mostly healed, but there are still a few signs of its continued progress. Her walk is stiffer, and her gait has slowed. There are days where she shows no signs at all, but today, traversing wilderness, has proven taxing. She uses her staff for support as she receives Dhavi in a prolonged hug. She looks well, all things considered.

“Getting better every day,” she assures her with a gentle smile. They lapse into comfortable conversation. Crescentia asks how Dhavi’fen has been, how the Clan is doing, how her First’s training is progressing; and in turn, Crescentia tells Dhavi’fen about her return to the Shadow Dragons, the progress in Minrathous, and Neve. It is a nice reprieve from apocalypses and life-or-death decisions.

However, there comes a point when their discussion slows, leading to a noticeable shift in their dynamic. Dhavi’fen’s words of warning give her pause. The question itself prolongs this silence for several, long seconds, as Crescentia tries to wrap her head around what it is her sister is asking. Before she does anything, before her face can betray her feelings, she is compelled to ask, “Why?”

@keepslore

[heroofshield]

Ooo prompta! d) Sad goodbyes?

Major Spoilers for Dragon Age: Veilguard!

@anderfels

Zea Laidir stood at the base of the stone steps. She knew that nothing waited at the top, but she still couldn't move.

It was hard...going back to where it all started. Trying to take down the demons and spirits that were crossing over from the Fade, while trying to stop Solas from completing his ritual.

"Maker, I had no idea what I was getting into." Zea thought, swallowing thickly before taking a shuddering breath.

The city, and Thedas saved, Zea had finally enough time to mourn those they'd lost. She missed Harding and how the dwarf could always smile about something; talking about her time in the Inquisition, the family farm in the Hinterlands, or even pointing out something that would be mundane for anyone else.

She also missed Varric, feeling like she'd only just started to process the loss of her friend while Neve had already done so. Solas had taken so much from her, particularly the ability to properly mourn and miss the prolific dwarf.

Movement out of the corner of her eye had her turning to see Neve coming to a stop beside her. "Sorry, just working up the nerve."

"No rush, you know that. How long did you know them?"

"Only for a year, but all that traveling we did together made it feel like we'd been friends for years." Zea smiled faintly, knowing that the other mage would be patient with her- she'd asked if there was anything she could do for Zea and hadn't thought it strange that she wanted to come back to the site of the first ritual. "There was this one time where he dragged Harding and I to Redcliffe, said it was to follow up on a lead about Solas. Turns out he had to do a book signing for Swords & Shields. Something about losing a bet to Cassandra Penteghast. We just laughed and got drunk in a tavern. I also learned that Harding was one hell of a Wicked Grace player."

Neve chuckled at the story, "Sounds like you three got along pretty well."

"For the most part. Harding taught me wilderness skills while Varric prodded me with questions about raids with the Lords. Said it would make a great serial one of these days." Zea fell silent after that, her heart aching for the friends she'd lost. "We had are disagreements, sure, but since it was just the three of us we had to get over them. Making camp is a great way to work out any anger."

Taking a deep breath, Zea squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, "I think it's time."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, can't keep putting it off."

Placing her foot on the first step, Zea made the short journey to the top. It felt different, now that they weren't in a life-or-death situation but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt. The stone was bare, any trace of Varric's blood had been washed away by the rains and bleached by the sun. But she stopped towards the middle, feeling like that had been where he had stood- trying to talk his friend down from doing something that would have repercussions across the whole world.

Kneeling, Zea took the small bouquet of flowers that she'd gathered; bluebells combined with rosemary and rose's, tied with a red ribbon, and placed it in front of her. She tried to think of what to say but couldn't form the words. So she just sat there, thinking of the tales that Varric had told around the campfire; stories of carta dwarfs and heists, what the Champion of Kirkwall was really like, and how much trouble they'd gotten into in Kirkwall.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when she finally stood, the shadows had lengthened and the sun had almost disappeared behind the tops of the trees. "Meet you at the pub." Zea said in a soft tone, smiling at the words- how he'd say them with a wink before they walked into anything dangerous.

"Feel better?" Neve asked, straightening from leaning against a pillar and uncrossing her arms.

"A little bit. It'll get better with time." Zea gave her friend a soft smile before looping an arm around Neve's shoulders. "But let me buy you that drink I owe you."

"About time, lets head to the Cobbled Swan- the rest of the gang's going to meet us there."

"I couldn't ask for a more perfect way to end the trip."