#Poor emmrich

[guardianofthedawn]

Emmrich: I say “Please” and “Thank you” around Manfred all the time, and I have yet to hear him repeat it.

Emmrich: Yet Rook shouts to Davrin that he’s a “pulsating blight boil fucker” ONE TIME…

[sunny374940]

You are worth any danger, love

Sooo I may have made Emmrich suffer a bit. A lot. But there is a happy ending because I am a sucker for those. Without further ado, Emmrich gets caught up in a building collapse and almost dies.

Here on ao3

“Emmrich, move!” Rook was screaming at him, sounding so terrified, but there was no time, no way to get to safety fast enough. There was a deafening rumble, like the earth itself was opening up to swallow them whole and then… nothing but darkness. His ears were ringing, but there was no other sound, only the sort of deep silence to be found way down below the ground. In a grave, one could almost say.

Emmrich took a breath, desperately trying not to panic. He was lying on his back, sharp rocks digging into him, he couldn't see a thing and there was a scraping, creaking kind of pain in the right side of his chest that was getting worse with each breath. Broken ribs, then. At least he hadn't punctured a lung.

He felt wetness on his forehead, flowing slowly down onto his temple in a warm trickle, dripping on the ground to pool beneath him. The metallic smell was unmistakable. Blood. His own blood, to be precise, and the scent of it was sickening. He raised a hand to wipe it away and his fingers caught on torn skin right above his eye. He winced at the pain of it.

His breath was coming faster now, shallow and gasping, the pain in his chest getting worse and he could no longer draw breath at all, he was dying, this was the end! He was shaking, heart thundering in his chest and he covered his face in his hands, as if the action could make all the horror he was facing disappear. But as his hands touched his face, a feeling he hadn't yet gotten used to gave him pause. The ring on his left index finger. Still gleaming and new, the one that Rook gifted him but a week prior, presenting it with a shy smile, so sweet and always managing to surprise Emmrich. He ran trembling fingers over it, using it to ground himself. He wouldn't go down without a fight, he had to get to Rook.

He tried to get up, but his right leg was caught under something and he couldn't feel it much, which was probably a blessing. When he bent his left leg to maybe get some leverage and escape the weight pinning him down, he felt such a nauseating scrape of bone fragments in the middle of his shin, that he fell back with a strangled cry. He lay there for a moment, head spinning.

A broken tibia. Had it been his femur, he'd be well on the way to bleeding to death, though the blood loss was likely significant anyway, given the weakness that was spreading through his limbs. His body was going numb, mind following suit, thoughts scattering and he found himself strangely calm.

Was this what it was like for his parents? He had been told their deaths were quick, always wished dearly that it really was so, but would anyone tell a grieving child otherwise? Would they tell the little boy how his parents drew their last breaths, lying there in agony, hoping against hope that help would come?

And then it didn't.

Would help come for him? Where was Rook? He last caught a glimpse of him mere moments before the collapse, before an opponent's misfired spell brought destruction upon them. He was yelling at Emmrich to move, to get away, looking so scared that Emmrich's breath caught, and then the ceiling came crashing down and the darkness descended with it. Was he entombed somewhere below the rubble, much like himself? Was he dying too?

He felt himself drifting, slipping away and he didn't have much willpower left to defy the icy cold pull of oblivion.

Suddenly there was a clattering noise, cutting into the silence like a knife. And then another, louder, the rumble of something heavy moving very much against its will, stone scraping against stone with terrible urgency. Was the structure giving way completely to give him a final burial?

A pinprick of light he hadn't really noticed before caught his attention. It was getting bigger, the noises louder, it was overwhelming his senses after the horrible darkness and silence that had been his only companions until now.

“Fuck, Bellara, get some light in here!”

Was that Rook?

“On it!”

A brilliant explosion of light made him squeeze his eyes shut, turning his head away from the searing pain of it.

“Rook, he's here!” he heard Bellara yell. And then her voice fell into a whisper that sounded quite terrified. “Oh no, is he…” She didn't seem inclined to finish the sentence and Emmrich wondered idly just how bad he must have looked for her to consider him gone already.

There was a sound of running feet and then something collided with his shoulder, making him grunt in pain. It was Rook's hand, shaking him, and he was here, he was really here!

“You came for me,” Emmrich whispered, tears gathering in his eyes.

“What are you talking about, of course I came for you!”

Rook sounded almost angry and Emmrich would have apologized, but talking was an impossibility now. His eyelids grew heavy and there was no way he could keep his eyes open for much longer, he was so very tired, he wanted so badly to rest.

He stole one last glance at Rook’s face. He was saying something, his mouth was moving and there was a look of terrible fear in his wide eyes, but Emmrich could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears. He let the dark claim him.

When he came to himself again, there was a throbbing ache in his ribs. And his legs. And head. But it seemed that he had been at least partially healed when he was unconscious and he was lying on something soft, so that at least was a welcome change. A comforting weight was pinning his hand down and he finally managed to crack his eyes open to take in his surroundings.

There was a fire roaring in the fireplace, casting the room in a warm glow. He was in his bed, wearing one of Rook’s soft tunics, and the covers drawn over him were hiding the damage to his body from sight, though he wondered just how spectacular the bruising must look, given the amount of pain he was still in. And in the armchair next to the bed was Rook, asleep. He was holding onto Emmrich's hand with both of his and resting his cheek on their tangled hands, having leaned over from the chair to be as close to him as he could without causing him any more pain. The sight was endearing and Emmrich squeezed Rook's hand gently, anchoring himself in the familiar shape of his lover's palm.

Rook stirred, blinking up at him with bloodshot eyes. There was a moment where he seemed to be getting his bearings and then he was on the bed and hugging Emmrich close, burying his face in his shoulder, and Emmrich could feel wetness soaking into the fabric of the tunic.

It hurt. His ribs were screaming in agony, his head was pounding and he didn't want the moment to end.

“You're an idiot,” Rook mumbled against his shoulder, voice thick with tears.

This wasn't quite what he was expecting to hear and he turned his head to look at Rook, eyes narrowing just the slightest bit.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Of course I came for you, did you think I would leave you there to die?”

Oh. That. And just what was he supposed to say? That he would rather have died than have Rook hurt? That out of the two of them, he would always want Rook to be the one who survived? That he would never ask Rook to throw himself in harm’s way for him?

“Darling, I simply do not wish to have you come to harm running to my aid. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“You are worth any fucking danger and any fucking harm, you dumbass,” came the indignant answer. “I love you and you will deal with it,” Rook added in a tone that brokered absolutely no argument.

Emmrich found that he truly had nothing to say to that. Except the one thing he enjoyed saying so much.

“I love you too, dearest.”

[lavellanfriendliness]

realistically we know emmrich is only 52 and probably won't break his pelvis but it's certainly not for my rook's lack of trying

[askfordoodles]

The brief, but very genuine flash of panic on Emmrich's face if you tell him he's your first "anything"... 💀

the PRESSURE

[timethehobo]

Emmy being self-conscious of his age, and maybe even about how he looks. 🥺 Rook loves him anyway.

[astral-veil]

we all know emmrich was a mess when rook was missing for weeks and he had to figure out how to get them out of the fade prison.

[emmg]

It kills me how genuinely emmrich wants to gossip when davrin first starts fucking around with him about his romance with rook

Emmrich: 👀 👀 👀 “what’s your latest hearsay??” 👀 👀 👀 🦟 ��� 🦟 basically rubbing his hands together like a greedy little fly hungry for slander, practically vibrating like a cockroach on a caffeine drip, ready to feast on the drama crumbs

The poor man hasn’t had a proper gossip circle jerk since Johanna skipped town and took all the tea with her

Davrin: “Lmao so you and Rook clapping cheeks or nah?”

Emmrich: “NO WHAT THE F—”

[drysia]

Thinking about after the game, Viago finally realizing that Rook's dalliance with Emmrich is something more than that. It irritates him. There's no good reason he should be upset at Rook being with Emmrich. Teia teases, he was mad when he thought Rook was giving those halla eyes at Lucanis, isn't this better? It's not just that he's older, or a Death Mage, but it does seem to offend him extra because he had been developing a rapport with the man. (Plus Viago de Riva is allergic to being happy on someone's behalf.)

To prove he holds no negative emotions about his little cousin, his protege, Rook de Riva's romantic life, Emmrich is invited to House de Riva in Salle by Viago once he accepts its really serious. Viago can't help acting a little pissy about it, which means there's going to be some poisoning afoot. Nothing lethal, of course. Just enough to prove to Rook that she shouldn't marry an academic necromancer.

The master poisoner did not expect this to be a challenge, especially not in his own House. Rook trying to thwart his attempts was expected, dare he say almost fun to combat. (He would never say it.) What he didn't expect? Utterly loyal, unpoisonable, ever so curious, never sleeping Manfred.

Thinking about Manfred grabbing the cup of tea that's not quite the right color and bringing it up to his jeweled eye, tipping off Emmrich. Viago clearly needs lessons on tea brewing. "Tea bad. Manfred help next!" Manfred learning to be sneaky, popping up unexpectedly as Viago attempts to brush the silverware with slick sickening oil, "Hiss! What's that?" Manfred being just the thing to keep Viago on edge enough to make mistakes, unnerved by the magic wielding skeleton in Emmrich's employ.

Between Rook and Manfred (Wait, that's his son?? No one told Viago that.) there will be no poisoning. Of Emmrich at least; Rook took the hit at least twice that she'll admit. Viago finds Manfred to be an acceptable body guard. He's still not happy about this, but at least he's pretty sure Emmrich isn't that likely to be killed by a Crow from a rival house any time soon.

That's something at least.

[lizzybeeee]

Am I the only one who thinks it's fucked up that the Mortalitasi are parading about King Markus's corpse...as opposed to letting the next in line rule??

He's alive in DAI - old, but very much flesh and blood - and we know this because the venatori use blood magic on him to get him under their control. So, what is he in DATV then? Are they implying that he's a lich? That he still has his mind? That they've got a spirit in there?

What do they gain from this? Cassandra's, what, 64th in line for the throne? So there's a bunch of potential heirs just hanging about -> potential heirs who want the crown because we know that Cassandra's parents were executed for trying to overthrow him.

Cassandra may not be fond of her family, but I can't imagine her letting this slide. This is the type of shit that gets an Exalted March called down on you! Especially if she's divine?! Nevarran's can be 'death-focused'* yes, but they let the living rule and not the dead.

It's their belief that when their soul passes through the Fade it results in a spirit being displaced - so they have the Mortalitasi find the spirit a new home in the Necropolis. That is their job - they maintain the Necropolis and, according to DATV, sometimes deal with awry magic.

The potential relation to a Divine or the Head of the Seekers, the King of Nevarra, is having his corpse puppeted about by a mage...and no one seems to care?!

Is this not super fucked up to anyone else?!!!

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Edit - I put this down in the tags but I think it's important to point out: In all the previous games up to this point not once has a mage, manipulating a corpse like this, ever been portrayed as quirky or funny. This is not the norm of what the Mortalitasi are supposed to do - they honour the dead they do not puppet them.

Thedas is a world very strongly intertwined with faith, especially the Chantry. It is Nevarra's attitudes towards death and their burial practices that distinguishes it from other Andrastian nations - they still have the Chantry, the Templars, and the Circle of Magi just as the rest of Southern Thedas has.

It's impossible to imagine any Divine (Leliana, Cassandra, or Vivienne) hearing of this occurring and not taking action against this. It's extremely strange that Emmrich bemoans that half the nobility know this has occurred when this action should be seen as nothing short of an abomination to the faithful - including Emmrich.

[heylittleriotact]

My favourite thing about Emmrich is that he’s pretty fucked up and it wouldn’t be a stretch to suspect he uses his work with the Mourn Watch to deal with it. Many of the funeral professionals I’ve worked with (myself included) were drawn to the work in the first place by their own experiences with death or other traumatizing experiences: a profound loss, wanting to understand and not fear mortality, feeling like they owe this service to society etc. Things that go beyond a morbid fascination with death (though there’s that too.)

It’s taking your fear and grief and sadness and turning it into something useful so you can help people navigate the baffling variety of emotions that death drags along with it because you’re intimately familiar with them yourself.

Besides, you can’t let your own fears and traumas overwhelm and break you when you’re too busy taking care of people who are counting on you to take care of them. Unfortunately that means you’re also not actually ever confronting those fears and traumas either, but hey… it’s safe.

[arcandoria]

When you are both Nevarran, nerds, and hopeless...

[huldrabitch]

Fuck I just have to write a fic about Emmrich noticing Rooks hidden injuries now

[leupagus]

On Taash

I think one reason people keep pretending that Taash's character is badly-written is because they remind them of what they were like as a young adult: blunt, convinced that they were always right (and everyone else was stupid), and flailing around for an identity that didn't hurt. That often makes for an unpleasant person to be around, and someone who at times is even unlikable. But we never see the beam in our own eye while discussing the splinter in someone else's, so I think there's a certain degree of "well I certainly wouldn't yell at my mom like that!" (You would, honey. You would.)

IMO, Taash is one of the best-written companions in Veilguard precisely because they are thoughtless and callous and blow up at people for no reason at times. They're trying to figure their shit out! They got voluntold to work with the Veilguard without any warning, under a leader who's a complete stranger and alongside people she's never met and often has fundamental conflicts with. They've got an extraordinarily complicated relationship with their mom, who gave up her entire life and culture and place in the world out of love for them, but who withholds approval in a way that so many of us can relate to. They're confronting the wrongness of their old gender expression (woman), then embracing a new one (nonbinary) almost as soon as they learn about it—which is how a LOT of identity works, remember? Remember learning the term "trans" or "bisexual" or "genderfluid" and thinking oh shit that's me? It's relatable, but it's still uncomfortable as hell. Considering all that Taash has on their plate, including hiding a fundamental aspect of who they are (their dragonbreath), it's a wonder they're as stable as they are.

As for the conversations about their identity that people are claiming are "cringe" or "unrealistic"—my babies, I have listened to more people talk through their gender and sexuality journeys than you've had hot dinners, and let me tell you they often sound a LOT like Taash. That's not a bad thing! But it's like learning a new language—or heck, joining a new fandom—where you use the unfamiliar terms in clumsy ways and want to talk about it all the time, even to people who aren't fluent. (Taash talks about other shit too; yes, a lot of their quests touch on their gender, but a lot of them don't and frankly expecting someone who's only just figured themselves out to not talk about it is...kind of cruel. Of course Taash isn't a real person, but man I hope you people complaining about how often you have to "deal with" Taash's gender conversations don't have any friends who have trusted you with those conversations.)

Taash is extraordinary in so many ways—the way they talk to Spite directly like a kid who needs firm boundaries; the possible romance they have with [spoiler]; the nuanced and emotional way they talk about dragons; the way they care for birds and refugees and anyone else in their orbit, if they're allowed to. They are one of my favorite companions (although right now it's kind of a seven-way race between all of them), and I have snort-laughed at more of their lines than any other companion by a country mile.

It's just a shame that so many people saw a reflection of the more grating parts of their own personality and so decided that Taash is badly-written, instead of considering the possibility that they are simply badly-heard.

[anew-flame]

Emmrich each time Rook makes him face his fear of death by dragging his ass around to every quest and battle

Inspired from this screenshot I have where he is just so. done.

[askfordoodles]

Ok, discovered more Emmrich lore via some banter with Neve.

After discussing Tevinter vs. Nevarran mage/nobility politicking, she comments how it must be even more intimidating if one were from poorer means and fondly says:

'but at least you did alright for yourself...' :)

and realizing her implication, he goes 'how did you-?' :0

Follow-up banter he's like 'so how did you deduce I came from poorer means?' and she basically lists the following observations about him:

always finishes his plate, always the first to eat

covered in gold, yet saves all his candle stubs

gives away more gold to the beggars than anyone else

always looks them in the eye, no aversion, "Poor is familiar"

Emmrich adds that yes, while he hasn't been poor in a while, she's correct, he was.

(sorry for the paraphrasing, I keep forgetting to record these things)

[timethehobo]

Just finished Emmy’s personal questline and am too full of feels rn so all I have is a tiny doodle tonight. I love him sm. 😭