#and neither is lucanis to be honest

[magerightsmagefights]

Emmerich: Oh yes, Lucanis is a lovely traveling companion. He gives excellent romantic advice.

Viago: He does what.

Emmerich: Well, first dates are important, and when I first began to see Strife, Lucanis' suggestion went over wonderfully.

Viago: What was the suggestion?

Emmerich: That I should give him a knife.

Viago: ???

Emmerich: And Strife loved it so much! Lucanis really does have a talent.

Viago: ??!?

[himluv]

Pulled Punches

Here's more Lucanis and Rook! And if you like this, read the rest over on AO3!

Lucanis left the dining table with a shove. He felt Neve’s and Rook’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look at either woman. He was unspeakably glad that Neve was back, but after all they'd been through, neither she nor Rook deserved to be on the receiving end of his foul mood. 

Once safely in the pantry, Lucanis pressed his palms to his eyes and growled.  Ghilan’nain had been right there! He had her! Were Davrin and Emmrich right? Was Spite the reason he’d missed the killing blow?

No, Spite said. Not my fault. Yours!

He should have had her. He was better than this! He was the best mage killer in Thedas, and Rook had hired him to kill mages. Very powerful, godlike mages, but still. 

Lucanis had never failed a contract.

Broken, Spite whispered. 

His life should be forfeit by his own Houses’s rules. He’d embarrassed House Dellamorte, worse than getting captured, worse than returning from death as an abomination. He had failed his contract.

After everything he’d survived, after everything that had been stolen from him in that prison, he’d thought that all he had left was work. But now it seemed even that had been taken from him.

What’s left?

“I don’t know!”

The door opened behind him. “Lucanis? Are you in here brooding?” Rook’s tone was light, teasing. 

Lucanis was in no mood for it. “I’m fine.”

“That’s not a ‘no’,” she said as she approached him. 

He turned to face her, but kept his eyes downcast. She wasn’t a Crow. She wouldn’t understand what this failure meant. She didn’t now how… twisted up he felt inside. 

Wrong, Spite whispered. 

Lucanis sighed. “I had her,” he said. “She should never have gotten away from me.” He shook his head, his frustration bubbling over. “This was our contract, Rook. I don’t fail my contracts.”

She shook her head, eyes pleading with him. “Forget about Ghilan’nain.”

“That’s why I’m here!”

“I know, but…” she gave him a soft smile. “I’m just happy you didn’t get killed out there.”

That’s what she was thinking about? 

He frowned. “You shouldn’t go easy on me. In my line of work, mistakes get people killed.” Didn’t she understand? If he couldn’t do this, what good was he? How could he keep her safe?

“To be fair,” she said, her voice light. “So do successes.”

He still wasn’t ready to let this go. He looked away from her. “I thought I still had this. Whatever else I am, I’m a professional.” A part of him still believed that, but a new, fragile part ached at the thought that maybe it wasn’t true anymore. “After the Ossuary, I thought at least I could still take out a target.” He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, suddenly anxious to move. “I need to work.”

“Ghilan’nain was a giant face in the clouds, Lucanis,” she said, sounding almost as frustrated as he felt. “I asked you to stab a cloud.”

Did she think that mattered? That it changed anything? He should be able to kill anything she asked! 

Finally, his anger broke through. “And I missed the damn cloud!”

It was the closest he’d come to shouting at her outside of battle. He wasn’t proud of it, but Lucanis was angry. Angry and, if he was honest, afraid. He was an assassin, born and raised. A weapon honed to kill any target he might be assigned. If he couldn’t do that… then who was he? He’d left the dining hall to think and cool his temper – he’d wanted to be alone. 

Instead, Rook had followed him into the dark. And she didn’t back down at his outburst. She didn’t flinch.

Her voice was softer when she spoke again. “My point is: that was impossible, and you still almost did it.” She ducked her head a little to catch his gaze. “That’s not small.”

Lucanis sighed. He knew she had a point, that she made sense. But, he was still upset and disappointed with himself. He needed to be better than this. Rook needed him to be better.

“I was distracted,” he said. “That cannot happen again. I need to get my head on straight.”

She didn’t look pleased at that, but she didn’t argue. “You made Ghilan’nain bleed,” she said. She took a step closer to him and her voice dropped low with threat. “And next time?” She shook her head. “You won’t miss.”

Her gaze was so sure, so intense, that Lucanis had to look away, his fists clenched. 

What if she’s wrong?

Lucanis sighed. He would just have to make sure he proved her right.  

“Have you been to talk to the others?” He asked. “Davrin, especially. I think everyone might have... Things to deal with now.”

She gave him a little smile. “Already done.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said. And he wasn’t. Rook had shown time and again that she took care of her team. But who took care of her?

“How are you holding up?” He asked. 

She crossed her arms and looked down at her feet. It took her a long moment to speak, and Lucanis wondered if she debated how honest she should be. How vulnerable. 

“Torn,” she said. “That was… rough. By any standard. And losing Weisshaupt?” She shook her head. 

“I’m sensing a ‘but’?”

Rook shot him a grim smile. “But we killed Ghilan’nain’s Archdemon.” Again, her voice took on that dark, threatening tone.

“Sounds like it’s personal,” he said. 

“It is,” she said. “They were my gods, Lucanis. My people prayed to them. I prayed to them!” She shook her head.

Lucanis wasn’t a religious man. He only invoked the Maker when he cursed, so he wasn’t sure what to say to Rook. He settled on an apology. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. He hoped his sincerity came through. He may not understand this particular pain, but he hated that Rook felt it. 

“Me, too,” she said. 

Lucanis shifted his weight, suddenly feeling awkward and too aware of how close she was. “I should check in with the Crows,” he said. “Whatever the word is, I'll let you know. There's nothing like work to focus the mind.”

She scowled at him, but her usual playful demeanor had returned. “Work and maybe getting some sleep?”

He scoffed at that, even though he knew it was good advice. “I’ll consider it.”

Rook watched him for a moment, her eyes darting across his face. This time, he didn’t look away, didn’t fidget under her scrutiny. He simply stood and let her see him. And when she was done, their eyes met for one leaden moment. 

“Goodnight, Lucanis,” she said.

“Goodnight, Rook.”

She stood there a heartbeat longer, as if she didn’t actually want to leave. But, finally, she turned and walked out of the pantry. Lucanis watched her until the door closed behind her. 

And somehow, that tiny room felt empty once she was gone.  

[deadlysoupy]

complete (for now!) character sheets of my blorbo (huge thanks to @arcandoria your contribution to the fandom is incredible bless)

explanations under the cut (there's a lot bc i'm a yapper) (spoilers!)

Bellara: Rook and Bellara hit it off pretty much since the beginning. Rook loves to tinker, and Bellara's brain is always full of ideas, so they hang out a lot together just taking stuff apart and putting them together. despite Urchin not being a mage, he has basically grown up with mages and seen magic a lot in Tevinter, so i think he'd know a little bit. they bounce off each other really well, and when Cyrian comes back and she hits a low point, he supports her with a joke or lets her rant. neither he nor she will probably ever say it out loud, since it's a sensitive topic for both, but they consider each other siblings or cousins at least

Davrin: complete opposite of Bellara, Rook and Davrin got off on the wrong foot and couldn't get up lmao. Davrin had a problem with how Urchin handles things, he considers the Lords to be unethical and rude bastards, and how Urchin rushes into battle or does careless things. Urchin also hated how heroic Davrin seemed to pose as, he's pretty much jealous of his dalish upbringing, and his history with the Grey Wardens. they even got into a fight at some point (Urchin started it, by the way). but after that, they reach an understanding that turns into deep respect for what each of them went through, and to say that Rook would miss Davrin as his unbiased opinion and who wouldn't be afraid to challenge him is to say nothing

Emmrich: at first they got along great. the Lords taught Urchin to be respectful to spirits, and he's fascinated by death and the life beyond it. but Emmrich is a very "touchy-feely", inquisitive and curious person, which Urchin is a complete opposite of. still can't get out of my head the graveyard scene when Emmrich confides and talks about his parents, and Rook, trying to react in his usual non-emotional way, makes a joke, to which Emmrich deeply disapproves and Urchin has to apologize. that's the gist of their relationship, to be honest, but it does become better after a while. his experience in life helps Urchin a lot, and he likes listening to Emmrich talk about magic

Harding: good friends who goof around a lot! i don't have much to say about them to be honest, but i think there's potential here for so many goofs and gaffs and getting in jail. reminiscent of that one "mayhem!" line Harding has in a dlc of Inquisition, i think she'd be down to cause some chaos in Minrathous or something. Urchin also understands her anger, and he's remorseful at their revelation that the Titans died because of the elves. all in all, they're on very good terms

Lucanis: hooo boy. where do i even start and how do i make this as short as possible. there's always been an understanding between these two, even beyond romance, that was just a cherry on top. Lucanis had a lot going on when he came into the story, so Urchin gave him space and support when he needed it, because he knows how something that traumatic can hurt, and that sometimes you just don't want to talk about it. it's hard for them both to express feelings, and Lucanis is a guy of action rather than words, so he cooks, gives little gifts, gestures, and Rook in turn gives him compliments, jokes with him, takes him out on dates etc because he's more of a words guy. i don't know i could make a separate post about their specific romance that i've built in my head, give me an ask if you want it i denno

Neve: his emotionally stunted wife. you probably noticed how their bars are just insanely covered with colours, and that's because of the whole "Minrathous or Treviso" thing. i milk so much drama out of that choice because it's really good! beside the obvious, Rook couldn't really save Minrathous because of his past with slavery, but he still feels so bad about it because of Neve's love for it. and i don't think she can ever forgive him, actually, but she tries moving past it. the fact that they both had crushes on each other that turned south is kinda funny to me, because they're like two sides of the same coin! she's so afraid to get close to other people, she's snarky and doesn't turn down a good joke, her sense of style is incredible (i imagine them exchanging Tevinter fashion tips). they're still close even after the game, and grow closer after it, and Rook, Neve and Lucanis become a polycule. traumacule. do you see the vision

Taash: saved the best for last i guess because Urchin and Taash are like two siblings who hate each other. well, not exactly hate. i really liked how their relationship began, when Taash tells Rook how the Lords aren't thieves, and he's like "but we stole shit! literally!" and i think there's a really interesting contrast here. Taash was taught by their mother about cultural appropriation and respect, while Rook was Isabela's apprentice. Isabela's! there's no question he doesn't have almost any morals at all. so Taash thinks Rook's a jerk, but Urchin doesn't mind it much. after that, they bond over their gender issues, and since Urchin found his identity he shares his experience with them. in turn, Taash teaches him about dragons. they're also both from mixed cultures, so they have this solidarity over their messy lives. they're neat i like them

whoever read until the end. holy shit i want to kiss you

[fartasticdurge]

A Bone to Pick

Bellara's at it again, with a new serial to tickle your funny bone. But you don't have to believe me, listen to what other fans of the serials have said so far: "Bones, Groans, and Puns Galore!" "Bone-Tickling Humor and Pun-Filled Lore!" "Bone Dry Humor, Pun Wet Wit!"

Watch Rook struggle to navigate her relationship with Emmrich and get romantic advice from the other men in her life.

You can find the rest of her serials here.

Rook was walking towards the kitchen of the Lighthouse, wondering if she could get Lucanis to finally make some desert like he’d promised. Rook hoped she would hang out with Spite while Lucanis whipped something delicious for them and hopefully enough time would have passed to make it socially acceptable to get in the same room with Emmrich. If he wasn’t avoiding her again.

Emmrich had gone to discuss whatever book they were talking about in their stupid book club, so Rook was left to entertain herself for a couple of hours. She wasn’t even sure why he would go in the first place as he would come back talking her ear off about magical and anatomical inaccuracies and how some of the members would react to his suggestions. When he would talk to her, lately, it seemed like he would rather do anything else.

Granted, knowing Emmrich meant that he would likely go into a long description of what the right version would be, and likely everyone wouldn’t even care about the right, to begin with.

Harding almost made Davrin join, given some of the titles they talked about in their silly little meetings, heroic adventurers with gruesome fights and steamy nights. Rook thought it was hilarious how neither of them seemed to notice how they craved stories about people doing what they did. Granted, some of Rook’s companions didn’t have the steamy nights to keep them company, so she supposed, in a way, she could understand where they were coming from.

Rook, however, did have the steamy nights. Well, she used to. Emmrich was busy with many things, and lately, it seemed like he was constantly trying to become busier. Everyone needed some random rune, spell or corpse whispering and if she were honest, it started to bother her how little attention she was getting, but she could hardly get him alone to broach the topic.

More often than not, Rook would walk into his chamber after a long day of killing Antaam and Venatori and whatnot, hoping to let off some steam, only to find anyone from Neve to Lucanis, to Davrin and even Taash ask all sorts of questions about all his fields of expertise.

Rook groaned at the memory of Emmrich practically running off to his book club just moments ago as she reached the doors of the kitchen, finding Davrin and Lucanis laughing with an open bottle on the table. That, at least, was bound to be interesting, considering how awful things stood between them for the past few days.

“No, no. I had to kill a man once who did magic on nugs.” Lucanis said as he leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms. “A hundred little pigs with hands came after me. All together in one big, writing ball. Have you ever tried to stab a ball of angry nugs? That was a bad job.”

“I’ve got a better one.” Davrin said as he leaned forward in his chair. “You know what the Wandering Hills are named for?” He asked without waiting for a reply. “it’s a monster. Big heap of red tentacles that crawls around, devouring everything in it’s path.”

If nothing else, it was nice to see Davrin and Lucanis sitting together, their laughter echoing softly as they swapped stories so engrossed that they didn’t even notice Rook enter the room.

“The damned thing was a hillside. Size of a village. You try fighting a hill with a sword some time.”

“How did you kill it?” Bewildered, Lucanis asked, his voice barely above a whisper, a tremor of uncertainty in his tone.

“Lamp oil. Everything stank of burned tentacles for miles, after.”

“If the two of you were going to open a bottle, you might have told me, first.” Rook teased, her laughter echoing through the room, making her presence known.

“It’s not a good bottle.” Davrin spoke, the firelight catching his slightly unfocused eyes, revealing his inebriation, a wide, goofy grin stretched across his flushed cheeks.

“Might have to pick up a supply. I have a feeling we’ll need it.” Lucanis said as he looked at her. His cheeks were suspiciously flushed as well, but he was nowhere near as drunk as Davrin. Then she remembered Spite. Of course, he wouldn’t let loose like that.

“What about you, Rook? What’s the worst job you ever been on?” Lucanis inquired.

A few missions from her days with the Shadow Dragons sprang to mind. And then to a few others before she joined them, though she didn’t particularly like to think about those. The most recent memory, however, brought a bittersweet smile to her face, prompting her to recount the tale of Varric, Harding, and Neve’s first encounter with Solas, a story filled with unexpected twists.

A hush fell over the room as Davrin, emboldened by the shared stories, finally seemed to find the courage to ask, his voice a low murmur. “So what’s up with you and Emmrich?”

From the second she sat down, Rook could practically hear the questions brewing in the room, a symphony of curious voices just waiting to erupt. She would usually handle them better than Emmrich seemed to be, particularly around the age difference.

“What do you want to know?” The ruby liquid swirled in her glass as she asked, a daring glint in her eyes, challenging them to a daring exchange.

Davrin, startled by her candor, shifted uncomfortably in his chair, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow as he considered his next question. “Well… how come you’re not with Emmrich now, helping him with his bone magic?”

Rook shook her head, a chuckle escaping her lips, as Davrin’s relentless puns continued, each one more groan-inducing than the last.

“Yes, how come you’re here with us and not somewhere in his tower?” Lucanis asked.

“I’m not always in his tower.” Her cheeks flushed slightly as she mumbled a little sheepishly.

“Really?” Davrin asked. “We’ve hardly seen you in the kitchen for a glass since you two started boning.”

A wide, warm smile stretched across Lucanis’ face, the crinkles around his eyes deepening as a mischievous glint sparked within them. A wave of warm, hearty laughter washed over the room from him, dissipating the tension she’d sensed and replacing it with a comforting energy.

“So what should I do?” With a loud thud, Rook slammed her empty glass onto the table, a final, sharp sound that punctuated her question. The wine, a cheap, vinegary blend, was truly atrocious, but Rook was certainly feeling its effects by now — a dull headache and a loosening of her tongue.

“You should go and just tell him what’s up. Men love women who take initiative.” Davrin emphasized, his voice booming through the room, commanding attention. The sound of his words resonated on some level with Rook, like thunder in a silent sky, igniting a spark of inspiration, and it was better than anything she had tried so far, so she was inclined to heed his words.

“Rook, you’re the leader of this group. Just tell him what to do. I can make sure he fulfills his contract. Or he could become the contract. Up to you.” Lucanis added.

“Yeah, just tell him to dust off the old bone and wield it like you do your sword, warrior!”

By this point, Rook has had enough of their shenanigans and puns about her and Emmrich and decided to up the stakes with a challenge.

“Okay, how about we play a round of Diamondback? If I win, you promise to stop bothering Emmrich with those bone jokes,” Rook said, casting a glance at Davrin. “And whatever it was you said to him,” she added, turning her gaze towards Lucanis.

“I never said anything.” Lucanis replied. “Well, I never did. Spite did.”

“Deal.” Davrin said, his laughter echoing in the kitchen.

A heavy, wine-soaked haze hung in the air, the sharp tang of cheap alcohol mingling with the lingering cheesy scent of Lucanis’s Cacio e Pepe. Rook stared at her hand, the cards pinched between her fingers as if they were about to spring to life and bite, her mind a blur of time. A Black Queen smirked back at her, and the Gilded Serpent lay coiled beside it — promising misfortune rather than salvation. Lucanis leaned back in his chair, his lips twitching with a barely suppressed grin, his Silver Blade and Storm Knight spread neatly before him. But it was Davrin who sealed the match, his final card sliding onto the table with a soft, inevitable finality: the Diamondback itself — a flawless win, the game’s namesake gleaming from the worn card face.

Rook’s eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened, but there was no denying defeat. She almost forgot what she agreed to do, until she saw Davrin’s smile sharpening, dark eyes glittering as he leaned forward. “Well, well, Rook. A promise is a promise.” He tapped the edge of his winning card, voice silk and steel.

“You’re going to march in there and show Emmrich who’s the boss. And you have to tell him exactly what I told you to say. I’ll know if you won’t.”

Lucanis let out a low whistle, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Rook groaned, tossing her losing hand onto the table. “I swear, one day I’ll wipe that smug look off your face.”

But even as she scowled, there was a fire lingering in her—the kind that only Emmrich could put out, so the prospect wasn’t really unappealing. She just hoped she wouldn’t forget the words, as Davrin would most certainly ask Emmrich about it later.

Rook took in a deep breath and pushed open the door to Emmrich’s chamber, her footsteps a loud contrast to the darkness of the room. She couldn’t see anything, and even as she had her arms outstretched, she stumbled against something heavy, almost falling, her lack of balance not helping, and she cursed the blasted object.

“Son of a Fereldan bitch!”

She heard movement from up top and a familiar voice calling out to her from the darkness. “Rook? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me. Who else would walk into your tower in the middle of the night?”

She heard the sound of footsteps on the staircase getting closer to her, and she took a deep breath, her mind already scrambling to remember the words exactly.

“There you are. I have a bone to pick with you, mister!”

She glared at Davrin when he told her to say that, his suggestion grating on her nerves, yet the moment the words left her lips, a wicked cackle erupted, surprising even herself. She was about to continue her speech, but as Emmrich ascended the last few steps of the grand staircase, his presence filled her vision, she forgot all the words. The familiar, musky scent of his cologne combined with the refreshing chill of the room’s air left her breathless, her mouth agape in silent shock.

The long, bone-white gown Emmrich wore, ruffled at the neck, swayed slightly as he moved, the candelabra in his hand throwing flickering shadows. The neatly pressed collar added a touch of elegance, and the vibrant green bow made him resemble a present, tempting yet unattainable to her touch, given how he avoided her as of late.

She didn’t realize she was walking towards him and bumped into the heavy object again—the mortuary table she realized, cold and smooth beneath his fingertips—its presence now clear in the light, the same table he used for his corpse whispering with the dead.

“Maker-forsaken piece of–”

“Rook, are you inherited?”

“No.” Rook said quickly, her hands clasped behind her back as she fought to stay upright, the dizzying swirl of the walls making her unsteady.

With a heavy sigh, Emmrich placed the candelabra on the mortuary table, the green magic swirling around his fingertips banished the darkness, revealing the harsh Fate light from the windows. She wondered, her breath catching, if the light played tricks on her eyes, or if she truly saw the magnificent, sculpted lines of his body beneath the thin nightgown, a longing to touch him burning within her.

“Rook!”

The sudden, piercing sound jolted her from her thoughts. Startled, she turned to see Manfred, his bony hands clapping together with a sharp, echoing noise. The tension in the air broke, filling the room with a sudden jolt that shattered the awkward silence and her wandering thoughts.

“Ah, Manfred!” Emmrich called out to him. “Kindly procure a selection of refreshments and convey them to Rook’s room, if you please.”

“Rook!” Manfred hissed in agreement.

Emmrich guided Rook outside of his room in silence, his fingers barely grazing the small of her back every once in a while, which ignited the fire within her for more of his touch. But it all seemed unimportant, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she did something to make Emmrich push her away. Her mind conjured images of potential situations where she might have offended him and she grimaced at the thought of her latest offence of showing up all demanding in his room when he was clearly sleeping.

“Are you angry with me?” A tiny, hesitant sound escaped Rook’s lips, barely audible as a question.

“I’m not.” Emmrich said, his voice tight and his face a mask of forced calm that didn’t quite mask the tension radiating from him as they entered her room.

“You are.”

“I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.”

The words stung more than anything else he could have said. She would have preferred Emmrich’s explosive anger to this unsettling silence. In the vastness of her small room, she felt the magnitude of their disconnect. The walls seemed to expand, stretching to hold the weight of her emotions. Every corner echoed with the absence of his voice, leaving her feeling alone, mirroring the void in her heart.

Regardless, always the gentleman, he carefully helped her to the couch, the soft fabric yielding beneath her weight. Rook thought he might at least sit with her and talk, but as he turned to leave, she instinctively grabbed his cotton nightgown sleeve, the cool fabric a contrast to her own feverish skin.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Rook blurted the words before she could stop herself.

Emmrich’s eyes widened, a silent gasp passing through his parted lips before he pushed them close together, gathering his composure once more. “I have not.”

Rook chuckled at his expression, despite the gnawing pain in her chest. “You’re awful at lying.”

“I thought it best to give you some room.” Emmrich settled onto the edge of the couch, his words soft and measured.

“I don’t want any room.” Rook said as she drew closer to him. She stopped inches away, noticing his brow furrow and his arms pull into his lap–a subtle shift that spoke volumes. “But I guess you do.”

“Rook, I thought some time and space between us might give us both a chance to reflect on our relationship.”

“Ok? But why?”

His lips pressed together in a slight grimace, a frown etching itself onto his face as he searched for the right words; one hand absentmindedly went to his ear, tugging at it gently before falling back to his lap, the silence punctuated only by the faintest sounds of his inner turmoil. Rook imagined herself grabbing his hands, her own trembling slightly, and kissing him hard to silence the frantic thoughts that whirled in her mind, but even in her drunken state, she sensed he needed space, further amplifying her misery.

“I was hoping that some time apart might grant us the clear head to ascertain whether if this relationship is still a good idea.”

“You want to break up?” Rook asked as the pounding heartbeat grew loud in her ears, suddenly very aware of the dryness in her mouth.

“Isn’t that why you came to my room in the dead of night?”

“No, you fool. I wanted to bone you, not break up with you.”

“Rook!” Manfred startled them both, the sudden hiss of his voice cutting through the tension as he appeared with a tray laden with steaming teacups and glasses of water.

“Thank you, Manfred. That will be all.”

Despite Manfred leaving, they remained seated in silence. “What brought this on?” Rook asked.

“It’s been inferred that perhaps we are moving at a rapid pace. And I assumed your infatuation might die down with some space. Perhaps I might have misjudged your intentions.”

“Perhaps.”

“But then perhaps we should stop listening to those around us and see what works for us.” Emmrich sat in thoughtful silence, his palms slowly pressing against each other, creating a soft, muffled sound. The furrowed lines on his forehead mirrored the intensity of his contemplation.

“We could bone it out.”

“I see you’ve made the company of Davrin as of late.”

“Well I preferred the company of someone else, but that someone else seemed to have been listening to someone else–others–other people.” The thoughts made sense in her head, but when they were spoken, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Emmrich let out a hearty chuckle, the sound warm and comforting, and the uneasy atmosphere lifted, everything once more in its rightful place. “Alright. I think it’s time we get you to sleep.”

“We could do other things besides sleeping, you know.” Rook’s suggestive words left a lingering sense of mystery in the conversation.

“Darling, I’m flattered, but I will, unfortunately, have to decline, given your current condition.”

“My condition?”

“Rook, you’re clearly drunk and I would never–” Emmrich said as he got to his feet. In an attempt to grab him, Rook overextended, narrowly avoiding a face-plant onto the dusty wooden floor, as Emmrich caught her just in time.

“Please stay.” Rook asked with pleading eyes, her voice filled with longing.

Emmrich’s jaw clenched tightly, a faint grinding sound echoing in the room, as he processed his thoughts. The air carried a tinge of tension, permeating the space with an almost palpable heaviness.

“No boning, I promise.” Rook added for emphasis.

“Only if you stop referring to sex as boning.”

“Deal.”

Emmrich settled in beside her, the confines of the small space pressing against them, yet Rook’s hand found his arm, pulling him closer until he was molded against her. As much as she didn’t want to think about it, the image of his thin frame, barely concealed by the sheer fabric, filled her mind, intensifying her desire.

“I love your nightgown.”

“Thank you.”

“I would love it even more if it was on the floor.”

A low chuckle rumbled from Emmrich’s chest, the vibration jolting them both.

“Perhaps if you still feel so passionately about it, I might indulge you in the morning.”

“You’re such a tease. But I hope that’s a promise.”

“It is. Now sleep, dearest.” He said, his lips brushing against her hair as he pulled her closer, leaving a tender kiss on the back of her head.

Emmrich held Rook close, his warmth a comforting blanket, and she soon drifted off to sleep.

[thewardenisonthecase]

Moments in Between - Chapter 7 (Final)

Lucanis Dellamorte x Grey Warden!Rook (Dawn Thorne)

Chapter 6

Read on AO3

Summary: The Siege of Weisshaupt.

A/N: So, here's what's going to happen. Doing this as a long fic is a little more than I can chew right now, so instead, I'm gonna continue this through a series of one-shots. They're easier for me to tackle and I can focus on more specific plot points, so this is technically the end but I will continue this story.

As Rook made her way to the eluvian, the conversation with Solas replayed in her head. 

There were never gods of the Tevinter Imperium. Archdemons are tools of the Evanuris and they can’t be killed without the dragons dying first. 

Great. Just…fucking great. 

“When you strike, you must be fully prepared.” 

But how could they be prepared if they barely understood what they were facing, were by themselves and not with their allies, and all their information was given by Solas.

Could she even trust what he had to say? 

She shook her head. Time was of the essence and they needed to move soon. 

“Still can’t believe it. They’re attacking Weisshaupt? The Wardens aren’t prepared for that.” 

Neither are we, Rook thought. Instead, she said “The gods are going straight for the throat. We just have to cut theirs first.” She turned to Lucanis. 

“Just get me close enough.” He said with determination.

“No problem.” 

He smirked “Time to see what this letter-opener can do.”

“Who gets to tell the First Warden we’re dropping in?” Taash popped in to ask and Rook gulped. 

“If I’m honest, I’m hoping to skip that part.”

“Last time I was there, I remember seeing  an eluvian in storage, down in the vault.” Davrin said. 

“Ours can get to it. I hope.” Bellara added. 

“Great, let’s get to it then. We sneak in nice and quiet, and look for Antoine and Evka. With the darkspawn to worry about, the other wardens won’t notice us.” 

“Was there a plan after that?” Neve asked. 

Rook put up a bravado before saying “Take down a god and hopefully end this today.” 

But deep down she knew that it would not go well. 

.

The mirror felt behind him and as Davrin cursed, Lucanis knew that this contract would go a lot worse than he had expected. 

Not that he had expected taking down a god would be easy but he had not been ready for that. 

A fucking cloud with a dragon. 

“A dragon. Ghila’nain brought a bloody dragon.” He said, in disbelief. 

“Worse! That’s an Archdemon.” Davrin clarified. 

“We have to get inside.” Rook said and the little girl, Mila, ran past all of them, motioning for them to follow. He wished he had half of her nerves. 

“The war room isn’t far!”

“Stick close, Mila!” Rook said, followed by a grunt of pain. 

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, worried and then turned to Darvin when he let out the same sound.  

“Wardens…we can sense the Archdemon…I can hear the Calling.” 

Rook grunted again, louder “We’re just going to have to push through it.”  

Lucanis knew of the Calling. In the past, he and other crows had taken contracts of wardens wishing for a quicker death than what the Blight provided. One of them explained to him that once they heard the calling, it signified that their time was near. Lucanis gulped at the thought of Ghilan'nain and the Archdemon’s presence speeding that process for his…colleagues. 

As they ran on a beam, he looked again at the sky. “She’s a cloud, Rook. How am I supposed to kill a cloud with a dagger?” He shouted.

“First, we try not to die.” She said, quickly shooting a ray of fire at a nearby darkspawn. “Then we think about that.” 

They battled through wave after wave of darkspawn, and he wondered if Weisshaupt would even hold. 

“You’re not helping, Lucanis.” Rook shouted at him, and that’s when he realized he spoke out loud.

“It has never fallen before.” Davrin added. “It won’t fall today.” 

Warden screamed to their deaths besides them, and Ghilan’nain taunted them - the urge to stab her face with a dagger only grew.

As they finally killed the last of that wave of darkspawan, Mila separated from them, saying she needed to find her father and promising to be careful. She whispered a good luck as Rook opened the doors to the war room, finding Evka, Antoine and the First Warden there. 

“Archdemon’s attacking the north wall.” 

“Signal a retreat!” Evka said. “Fall back into the trap.” 

“Can’t see the signal fires through the smoke.” 

“Try the horns.” 

“The archdemon’s too loud!”

“No one’s retreating.” The First Warden told them.

 Lucanis remembered the last time Rook had met with him. It had not gone well, as he recalled her saying ‘Is there any answer that would be good enough for you?’ to him.  Lucanis took a deep breath, as he watched the scene unfold. 

“There’s no choice, sir. We’re under siege - we have to fall back to the dragon trap!” Evka told him. 

“Forget the dragon trap. Send word to Commandar Janos. Rally outside the wall.” 

Rook stepped forward, throwing the broken sword of Janos they had found earlier on the table. 

“Janos is dead.” She said. 

“Warden Thorne. What are you doing here?” The First Warden narrowed his eyes at her. 

“What does it look like? You need help and I-” 

He raised a hand and interrupted her. “You have caused enough trouble.” He signalled to other wardnes. “Arrest her.” 

Lucanis hand reached for his rapier as two wardens grabbed Rook’s arms, but she didn’t fight them. He was about to move when Davrin held his wrist and whispered “Wait.” 

The First Warden tried to walk away, but Antoine got in his way. “You have to listen to her! We are under attack by a god!” 

“Do you hear yourself? There’s no such thing. Stop finding excuses to be a coward.” He pushed the elf aside, at the same time as Rook freed herself from the guards. “We’ll stop the enemy outside the walls.” 

“The enemy is outside the window.” She said as she walked towards him. 

“Grey Wardens don’t fight in our castle. I won’t ask good soldiers to turn tail and run. We’re an army of steel holding back the Blight.” 

“We’ll die, sir.” Evka told him. 

“That’s an order, Warden.” When the man turned around, Rook blocked his path. 

 Lucanis watched as Rook stared at the man, and the looked to the ground before taking a deep breath and saying “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.” 

In a flash, the First Warden fell to the ground, the sound of the punch Rook had given him echoing in the room. Lucanis’s eyes widened, as he wondered how much anger she had packed in that fist, considering the Warden had been wearing heavy armor and the fact that Rook always preferred to fight from a distance. 

On the corner of his eye, he saw Spite cheer at the punch. 

Other wardens unsheathed their sword, but Evka stopped them from walking further as she walked in front of Rook. “No. Listen to Thorne…That’s an order.” She turned to Rook. “I assume you have a plan.” 

“This dragon trap - tell me about it.” 

“It was built 900 years ago, to stop an Archdemon, but-” Antoine’s explanation was cut short by the dragon’s fire, as they ran to hide behind a table. 

“Where’s the trap?” Rook shouted at Antoine.  

“Other side of the fortress. But it’s never been used.” 

“It only has to work once. Let’s go!” 

Lucanis sighed, running behind Rook as they tried to fight their way to the dragon trap. 

Out of the war room, more darkspawn, more blight and more death. Davrin shouted as he saw his fellow wardens die in front of him. They kept running and fighting as Rook led them to the trap. Everytime, she would try to help the other wardens and every time, a darkspawn would appear out of nowhere and kill them. He wondered if Rook knew any of them. 

Lucanis saw Davrin and Rook’s pained expression at seeing their comrades fall. This needed to end today. 

They had to change paths, as the destruction of Weisshaupt blocked their way.  Davrin led them to the library, as he said it was the only other path to the dragon trap. 

When they had a brief moment of respite, Lucanis said “The First Warden will be a problem when he wakes up.” 

She raised a brow. “I’m hoping he won’t. I decked him pretty hard.” 

“Still can’t believe you did that, Thorne.” Davrin said. 

“What did you want me to do? I didn’t have time to calmly explain to him that a fucking god would kills us.” 

“Well, if he wakes up, at least he’ll have bigger problems on his hands than us.” 

They continued making their way down through the barracks, reaching the courtyard and then the township streets. There, the rest of their group lit the way forward with torches and Lucanis was glad to know they hadn’t died. 

They made their way to the bell tower, as Harding said wardens were gathering there. 

“I still can’t believe there’s darkspawn inside Weisshaupt.” Darvin exclaimed, as his sword slashed through a hurlock. “Right here is where I took my vows to fight them!”

“At least we’re keeping our end of the bargain!” Rook shouted, blazing a group of darkspawn. 

Lucanis began to tire as another blight dropped from the sky, and more of these blighted creatures ran towards them. “Is there an end to all this?” 

“Only if you kill Ghilan’ain!”

No pressure, he thought. “Right. I’ll get on that then.” 

Lucanis heard the bell ring loudly just as a large darkspawn broke through a wall and headed their way. In an instant, before he even had time to react, Rook and Davrin sprung into action and ended the creature. 

Though he had his qualms with the order, Lucanis had to give it to them - Wardens did get the job done when it came to darkspawn. 

“The bell’s still ringing, let’s go!” Rook moved ahead of them, destroying the blight that blocked their path with her fire orb. 

“There. The bell tower ahead. We can get out of this mess.” Davrin pointed towards the building. However, the archdemon dove from the clouds and smashed itself against the tower, collapsing the structure as it flew back again to its master. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Davrin and Rook exchanged a look before she gulped and said “Hang in there. We’ll find another way.” 

“What’s the plan now?” Lucanis asked, following her. 

“I don’t know. But we don’t quit. There’s got to be a way out of this mess somewhere.” 

Lucanis shook his head. How Rook managed to be this sure that they’d find a way amongst this chaos was beyond him. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t the one in charge. 

Davrin pointed the way to the library, Ghilan’ain taunting them above once again. 

“Someone really needs to shut her up.” Davrin said through gritted teeth. 

“What’s the plan for that, Rook?” 

“We can’t touch her until the Archdemon’s dead.” 

Oh, great. Lucanis only hoped he wouldn’t have to kill the dragon too. 

On their way, they found Neve, Bellara and Tassh, who opened the way for them. Then, they saw Evka fighting one of the blighted tentacles by herself. Davrin assured him that she could handle but Lucanis wasn’t so sure, with so many warden corpses around them. 

Another horn sounded. Last time it did, it was for reinforcements that would never come. He did not want to ask what this one meant. “They keep adding horns and it keeps getting worse.” 

The way to the library was blocked by tentacles and more blight. They would have been stuck if Mila hadn’t appeared, showing them a different path. 

“Mila, have you found your father yet?” Lucanis asked, as they followed the girl once again. 

“No!”

“We’ll find him.” Lucanis said. It was the least they could do. 

“I just don’t want him to be afraid.” 

“If he’s half as brave as you are Mila, I’m sure he’ll be safe.” Rook told the girl. 

Just as they were about to reach the library, more darkspawn appeared. This time, an ogre with them. Rook told Mila to hide as Davrin jumped on the large darkspawn, Ghilan’ain’s voice instructing the creatures to tear them down. 

“We won’t give in!” Davrin shouted as he sank his sword down the ogre’s chest. 

It seemed like there was no end in sight. Once one group was killed, another would appear. The darkspawn tried heading for the library, but Rook ended them with a blast of fire. Then, Lucanis tried to open the door, but it was locked. 

“We’re trapped!” He shouted. 

“Then we make our last stand if we have to!” 

Lucanis has never considered himself the religious sort, and it was situations like this that truly made him question if the Maker was real or even cared. But in that brief moment, when they were surrounded by darkspawn and with no way out, he just begged for whatever entity that could listen that his death came quickly. 

Thankfully, those prayers ended on deaf ears, as the door’s suddenly opened, Taash telling them to get inside quickly. 

They rushed, and once again the whole group was reunited, holding the door against the horde outside. 

“Huh. You’re alive.” Taash said. 

“Barely.” Rook replied. 

“If this door doesn’t hold, all bets are off.” Davrin told them, as they all struggled to keep the door shut. 

“What about the dragon trap?” Rook asked. 

Then, a new voice joined them. “The trap’ll work.” A man who Lucanis did not recognize grunted as he brought his hammer down, and a large wooden beam firmly shut the door, allowing the group to let go. 

“Take it from a blacksmith…” The man walked towards them. “You set it off, and get out of the way.” 

“Dad!” Mila exclaimed and ran towards the man, hugging him. “I told you not to get lost.” 

Lucanis heard Rook sigh in relief, and the two walked up to them. 

“Hope she wasn’t too much trouble?” Mila’s father asked. 

“The right kind of trouble. She saved our butts out there.” 

Before any of them could reply, they heard the archdemon roaring. 

“The real problem will be getting that dragon to land.” 

“Lucanis, the dagger.” She said. Lucanis unsheathed the blade, glad that it was intact. “That’ll bring Ghilan’ain’s attention.” 

“And then?” 

“She sends the Archdemon after me, we set the trap, Davrin kills it and you…you get your shot.” She explained. 

“Just like that?” It was good that it was a plan but it felt too easy. 

“It could work.” She said and then added. “It will work.” 

Lucanis frowned. Rook spoke as if killing a blighted dragon and a god was easy. It sounded more like a suicide plan. 

“More likely you’ll die trying.” He said, trying to hide his concern. 

Rook’s gaze hardened. “If I don’t try, a lot more people will die - today and then tomorrow...it won’t end.” She shook her head. “I’m not letting that happen.” 

“Right.” He heard Evka coming up behind him. “Then let’s do this while the Wardens still listen to me.” 

“You’re alive.” Rook said, relieved. 

“You know me, I’m not going down that easily. I’ll rally the others since someone decked the First Warden and left me in charge.”

“Practicing for the Archdemon.” Rook smirked.

“We should get moving.” Davrin said as he walked up behind her. “I know a way to the trap.” 

. 

During the brief years she had spent at Weisshaupt, Rook had visited the library only a handful of times. It wasn’t that she didn’t have interest, it was mostly that she did not have time. 

Now, visiting the library while the whole fortress was being attacked was not ideal; however, after everything that had happened, she would use this opportunity for a brief respite. The deaths of her fellow wardens loomed over her head, and the knowledge that either her or Davrin would not return to the Lighthouse made her heart drop. 

As soon as they entered, she was met with a strange sight. 

“What is that doing here?” She pointed towards the joining chalice on display. 

“It’s just a goblet.” Lucanis said. 

“It’s not just a goblet. This was the chalice the Hero of Ferelden drank from on her Joining.” Rook explained. “I remember it being kept in Vigil’s Keep, how did it get here?” She turned to Davrin but he only shrugged. 

“We have to keep going, Thorne.” 

“Just…give me one second.” Rook stepped forward and grabbed the chalice. She turned to Lucanis, and saw the little satchel bag he had with him. “Can you keep this in your bag?”

“You’re taking the goblet?”

She nodded.

“Why?” 

Rook rolled her eyes and stepped forward as she grabbed his bag and put the cup there “Because I don’t know if there will be a Weisshaupt Fortress tomorrow and this is the sort of thing I do not want that bitch Ghilan’ain to destroy.” 

She finished closing the bag, only to be met with a Lucanis’s frowning face. “What?” She asked. 

“Nothing.”

“Come on, you two.” Davrin said. “We can’t stall.” 

The two of them walked up to Davrin as they took the elevator to the West wing of the library. The place was overrun with blight boils and Rook wondered just how much history would they lose. 

Suddenly, she had an idea. Each shelf they passed, Rook would whisper a small incantation, a blue light coming from her hand and covering the books.

“What are you doing?” Lucanis asked. 

“It's a protective ward. Making sure that whatever happens, we’re not losing everything.” 

“Weisshaupt can’t fall.” Davrin said, determined. “We just have to get to the dragon trap.”

“This trap… I thought only Grey Wardens could kill archdemons.”

The two wardens shared a look before Davrin spoke. “A Grey Warden needs to deal the final blow to kill an Archdemon.” 

“And die doing so.” Rook added.

“What?” 

“It’s complicated but it's a sacrifice every warden is willing to make. I’m ready.” 

“It doesn’t have to be you, Davrin. I’m a warden, too.” 

“Thorne, you’re the Warden leading this outfit. People need you alive.” Davrin said and she looked at him, her gaze saddened. “It has to be me. Maybe they’ll hang a portrait of me in here someday.” 

Rook gulped, swallowing the tears. “It’s not over yet.”

“It will be soon.” 

She didn’t say anything else. She did not want to lose a friend, and much less another great warden today. She continued to destroy the blight boils and set up the spells to protect the books.

“Davrin, we’ve had our differences, but you have my utmost respect for making the sacrifice.” She heard Lucanis say. 

“And I know you’ll finish the job and kill Ghilan’ain.”

“Easier said than done. I’m good, but even I cannot kill a cloud-face with a dagger.” 

“We’re going to find a way.” Rook sighed. “We have to.” 

As they continued forward, the reality of the situation dawned on Rook. The chances of her surviving this thing were slim. If she was the one to attract the dragon’s attention, what stopped Ghilan’ain from striking? 

More likely you’ll die trying. 

“Rook?” She felt a gloved hand on her shoulder and she turned around, Lucanis staring at her. From beyond his shoulder, she saw Davrin cutting away blight to open a door. 

“Dawn.” She said. 

“Pardon?” 

“My name…my name’s Dawn. Dawn Thorne.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

Because I trust you and I die today, I wish to die with you knowing my real name, its what she wanted to say. Instead, she said “If something happens to me or to Davrin…I need to be sure someone will put the right name on my grave.”

“Rook-”

“The path’s clear, let’s go!” Davrin shouted, and she brushed past Lucanis, heading straight outside. 

. 

Lucanis watched as Rook  held the lyrium dagger in her hand and said “And now I die.” as she walked over to the trap, calling upon Ghilan’ain. His heart pounded as the cloud-face called up her archdemon, the dragon coming down towards them.

“Come on, come on…” She whispered as the creature moved forward and finally triggered the trap mechanisms. 

Heavy chains with spikes at the end pierced the archdemon in various places. The dragon roared, Ghilan’ain screeched as it came down.

The Wardens celebrated and from the corner of his eye, Lucanis saw Darvin walk up to the beast. He stopped to look at Rook and said “Give Assan a hug for me.” 

But Davrin was interrupted by a bruised First Warden arriving down the steps, ready to give the final blow. The man raised his sword but before it could make contact, one of Ghilan'nain's tentacles snatched him and tossed him aside. 

They all watched in horror as her Archdemon was changed in front of them, turning from dragon into a twisted creature. 

“What is that?” Lucanis shouted as Rook ran ahead, knife and orb in hand. 

“The real Archdemon!” 

“Then what was the other one?” 

Davrin cut them off. “We have to kill it! Ghilan’ain’s invulnerable until we do so!”

“It already died.” Lucanis argued, as he slashed the beast. “It just got back up!”

“Just focus on killing it again!” She shouted at the two of them. 

The three of them attacked the Archdemon relentlessly, but everytime Lucanis thought it was over, Ghilan’ain would bring it back with even more heads. 

Maker, he was not being paid enough for this. 

It was when this curse of nature had three heads that they finally brought it down for good. Lucanis gave Rook a nod before he flew upwards, trying to find a good spot to hit the goddess from. Below him, he heard her shout. 

“Davrin, kill it!” 

The warden struck the sword through one of its heads. When he removed it, a red light came out of it, going towards a shrieking Ghilan’ain. 

Lucanis was on top of a griffon statue, and without a second thought, he began running as Dawn shouted “Now Lucanis, finish her!” 

The lyrium dagger flew towards him and he grabbed it mid air. Lucanis flew towards the goddess, determined to finally put an end to this. 

All he had to do was stab her.

. 

Dawn watched as a Ghilian’ain summoned a giant tendril, blocking Lucanis from hitting her. He came falling down, twisting in the air and landing on his feet, like a cat. 

Though he was parried, the crow had still managed to hurt Ghilan’ain as Dawn saw a slash near the goddess’s cheek. She gave a startled cry, raising even more tendrils. They needed to leave. 

Dawn touched Lucanis’s shoulder. “We have to go. Now!”

He turned, scowling. “Give me another shot.”

She shook her head. “Too late. Back to the eluvian.” 

Dawn ran ahead, seeing that Bellara and Mila’s dad had brought the eluvian down to the trap. 

“Is it working?” She shouted. 

“I hope so.”

“Best odds all day.” Everyone rushed in and she took one final look at Weisshaupt, now overrun with blight, before heading in as well. 

They found themselves back at the Lighthouse, and Dawn was glad to see that all in her team had made it. She told them to clean themselves and that they would rejoice later. Everyone nodded, grim expressions on their faces as they headed to their rooms. 

What a disaster. The only positive, Ghilian’ain’s mortality, barely outdid the negatives. The wardens were almost wiped out and Weisshaupt was gone. 

Dawn picked up the Joining chalice, the one she had hidden in Lucanis’s bag. It was pristine, and mirror-like. When she saw her reflection, bloodied and covered in dirt and blight, she wondered once again if she was the right person for this. She closed her eyes.

She needed to hold it together. How could they possibly win this fight if their own leader was going to break down at the first loss? 

No, they needed to rethink their strategy. They were this all head on, with no thought. Swallowing down her feelings, she took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror. 

With a wet cloth, she cleaned herself best she could and changed into cleaner clothes. She did not know how much time passed until everyone reunited again in the dining hall. 

Harding gave news about Evka and said that the last of the civilians made it back to Lavendel. “And the Wardens are there, too.” 

“You mean what’s left of them.” Davrin said. “Over a thousand…that’s how many fellow Wardens I had. And now…one god. One archdemon. That’s all it took to nearly wipe out our entire order.” He looked at her. 

“I know how you feel. I knew them too.” She said. “We still have the southern Grey Wardens to rely on, and we will make Ghilan’ain pay.”

“How? We all saw what she did.” 

“Yes, but her archdemon’s dead.” Bellara intervened. “It has to count for something.”

“And it does. She’s mortal now.” Dawn told her. 

“But you only killed it after it became a snake-monster with too many heads!” Taash exclaimed, leaning back on their chair and folding their arms. “Are all blighted dragons gonna do that? I don’t know how to fight that!”

“Taash-”

“Mortal or immortal, it doesn’t matter if we can’t get close to her.” Davrin interrupted and then frowned. “We had our shot and we missed it.

“That’s not-”

Dawn was once again interrupted, this time by Lucanis. “Say what you mean, Davrin. I missed.”

“Nobody blames you for that, Lucanis.” She heard Harding say as she sighed and rubbed her forehead. 

“Maybe I do.” Davrin admitted. “This Crow has a demon inside of him, right?”

“Davrin, hold-” 

“How do we know we can trust him?” He turned to Dawn. “Maybe the demon pulled his punches.” 

Bellara tried to speak up. “Okay, now we’re getting-”

“And you, Warden? What about the Blight that runs through your veins? The same Blight that Ghilan’ain controls so effortlessly.”

Dawn put her fist on the table, harshly enough that it caused it to tremble. “Enough!” All heads turned to her. She looked at the two men. “If you want to act like children, do so elsewhere. There’s two gods out there. They have plans and we’re falling behind. They’ll rain death and disease on Thedas unless we do something.”

“We’re all in agreement on that point, Rook.” Emmrich said. “But the question is how? We barely survived against one of the gods.” 

She looked at him. “We strengthen our allies. We’re a capable team, but we’re not enough. We need a strong enough army to withstand any attack, and between all our contacts, we have something.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Bellara asked. 

Dawn turned to Harding.  “Send word to Evka and find out if she has any rested scouts.” 

“Scouts? Why?” 

“If this is a Blight, the darkspawn will follow the archdemon, and thus, the gods. We follow their trail, and we find those two bastards.” She looked down for a moment. “The attack on Minrathous, on Treviso and on Weisshaupt didn’t happen out of nowhere. Twice now we’ve been caught unprepared. I won’t let it happen again.”

She then looked at everyone. “Despite everything, Ghilan’ain is mortal. She will not show her face for a time and when she does, we’ll be ready. Contact your allies, discover what they need and how can we help.” 

“Look, Thorne, I don’t mean to disrespect, but are you sure that’s even going to work?” Davrin said. 

She hardened her gaze. “It will.” 

“

“I think we’ve all been a little distracted.” Emmrich said. “Lucanis, you and Spite are not of one mind. Fighting for control, no wonder you missed.” 

“I nearly had her.” Lucanis grumbled.

“And I’ll admit, I’ve been focusing on the Hand of Glory.” 

“And me on my magic.” Harding added.

“The archive…”

Dawn decided to say one last thing. “I know that we are all suffering. We’re all facing our own troubles on top of all of this, but if we don't clear our heads, we’ll never win. We need to take a step back and focus.” 

They nodded amongst themselves and quietly, everyone left. Only Dawn and Varric remained. 

“So, how do you think that went?” The dwarf asked. 

“Like shit. Davrin’s upset, and I can tell the others are too.” 

“Well, at least they stopped fighting when you told them to. Even on their best days, Hawke couldn’t get Fenris and Anders to be at each other's throats.” 

She gave him a small smile and then looked down. “Emmrich’s right, though. We’ve all been distracted by some personal problem. I think it’s affecting our capacity to do this right.”

“It’s what happens when you have capable people working for you.” Varric walked towards her. “Just like your allies, you have to help them solve these problems, Rook. Check in on them. Start with Davrin and Lucanis.” 

“And Neve.” She added. “She’s still hurting from Minrathous.” 

“You should also check in with Solas, when you have the time. All this talking makes me tired and Maker knows that man will love to go on and on with any questions you ask.” He yawned and said “You’ve got this, kid.” 

.

It was his fault.

All this pain could have been avoided if he had just done this one thing right and yet. Everyone had counted on him and Lucanis couldn’t finish the bloody job. He had failed all of them.

There was a time when he thought the only thing he was good at was killing and now, he began to have doubts on that too.

“Lucanis? Are you in here brooding?” He heard Rook say as she entered the pantry. 

He put his hands on his hips. “I’m fine.”

She raised a brow. “That’s not a no.” 

“I had her. She should never have gotten away from me.” He looked at her. “This was our contract, Rook. And I don’t fail my contracts.”

She narrowed her eyes and then said. “You didn’t fail me, Lucanis. You still hit Ghilan’ain.” 

“But I didn’t kill her.”

“No, you didn’t kill her but you made her bleed. If she can bleed, she can die, and I know that when the time comes, you won’t let her come out of it alive.”

Lucanis sighed. “You put too much faith in me.”

She took a deep breath.“Faith implies believing in something even when you cannot see, when there’s no evidence that its real.” Rook looked him in the eyes. “I’ve seen you and what you can do. I trust you, Lucanis.”

He frowned. Part of him wanted to believe what he said but another part of him thought she was only saying that to be nice. 

“You’re going easy on me.” Lucanis shook his head. “Mistakes get people killed, Rook.” 

Rook shrugged. “You’re an assassin. So do successes.” 

He sighed. “I thought I still had this. Whatever else I am, I’m a professional.” 

“I know.”

“After the Ossuary, I thought I could still take out a target.” He looked down. “I need to work.” 

“Lucanis. Ghilna’ain was a giant cloud-face. Like you damn well said, I asked you to kill a cloud with a dagger.”

“And I missed the damn cloud.”

“She parried you!”

“Rook-”

She interrupted him “Lucanis, my point is: I asked you to do something impossible and you still almost did it. If anything, I’m impressed you managed to get so close and still hurt her.”

Lucanis sighed. It was not enough for him. He needed to do better - be better. “I was distracted. That cannot happen again. I need to get my head on straight.”

“Fine.” She breathed out. “Whatever you need to do. And if there’s any way I can help, tell me.” 

He nodded. “Have you talked with the others?” 

“Yeah, I just spoke with Davrin.”

“Good. I think everyone has…things to deal with now. I’ll check in with the Crows. Whatever the word is, I’ll tell you. There’s nothing like work to focus the mind.” 

She nodded, and turned to leave. Halfway to the door, she stopped and faced him again. “Lucanis?”

“Yes?”

Rook gave him a small smile. “I’m glad you survived. With what happened at Weisshaupt, everyone making out alive is a win as well.”

“I…thank you. I’m glad you made it out too.” Before she left, he said one more thing. “Rook…what you said before we faced the dragon…your name.”  ‘Only those important enough to know, know.’ She had told him once. “Does that mean-”

“It means whatever you want it to mean.” She cut him off, and he noticed a small pink on her cheeks. 

“Alright.” 

.

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[kirkwall-age]

hey! yesterdayish you mentioned in a post that you like the choices/replayability of them in da4. ive noticed that as long as you DO a quest, no matter which dialogue options you pick or really even what Big Choice you make, the outcomes are pretty much the same. im a good 60-70% into the game and so far only approx 5 choices have mattered in noticeable ways? and all but 1 are tiny things. im wondering if youve experienced something different? do you think its POSSIBLE to fail a quest in a way other than ignoring it? it doesnt feel like im earning my rewards or good outcomes if theyre the only option to participating if that makes sense? sorry to dump this on you lmao ignore if you want i just thought you might have thoughts on it?

No worries at all, and thank you for asking!

I think you are absolutely right in the way you summarized how the game works. There aren't a lot of choices like that. By comparison, Inquisition had a lot more variety with quests where neither outcome was good/bad, and it was all about RP. Like Wicked Hearts, or certain companion quests, or Judgments. Big or small, there were a lot of quests like that in Inquisition, that were really branching out. By comparison, Veilguard absolutely has much much less.

However, when I said "replayability". I was actually looking for something different. I'm gonna draw some comparisons to other BioWare games which -- I'm sorry I'm not sure if you're familiar with them, so maybe this won't make the most sense. But.

Example 1: Origins. I replay it fairly frequently, and I have to say that most of my playthroughs on paper? Look pretty similar. Support mages. Broker peace in the Brecilian. Save Connor. Support Caridin. The "replayability" factor for me there is purely: what personality I think my character has + the origin itself. How the game reacts differently to me if I'm a City Elf vs a Tower Mage etc. The game may offer choices, but I will make all the same choices. :D

Example 2: Mass Effect. For all that it is described as a similarly choice-based RPG, Mass Effect barely has any choices. Shepard's personality is much narrower because you're an Alliance soldier. You can swing between mercy and ruthlessness. But, in general. Until ME3 which was the big finale and they allowed themselves more deviations in quests (most of which were fairly tragic, to be honest). There wasn't really much variety. Mass Effect 2 seems like the most clear parallel: it is also a game where you recruit a team / build bonds with people / prepare for a suicide mission. Aside from minor flavor here and there, the game really plays the same for the majority of people. Unless you really go out of your way to get a bad result, you will gain everyone's loyalty, you will collect enough resources to be prepared for the end mission, you will make maybe one or two big choices and the rest are gonna be minor flavor and inconsequential. And yet that game is also fairly "replayable" -- for me, at least -- because even within these narrow confines I think of each individual Shepard as somebody very different, based on their class / background / history. The diversity is in my head, and as I play the game, I justify things to myself based on the personality that I selected, and that what makes replayability fun. Even though, on paper, I literally play the same game and make the same choices, barring like 5 to 10% that is different and are only for flavor. The story in that game is put on rails.

So when I made that post and said that "replayability" of Veilguard has me excited. I think saying "choices" was maybe the wrong word to use. Because I was actually thinking about factions. I am currently playing as Antivan Crow. And the way it is integrated into the game is a blast to me. The way Treviso reacts to me. The way my Rook talks about it. The way I have a history with the city. The way the companions talk about Lucanis in comparison to Rook. These little flavor conversations are not few and far between. There is a lot of them. I feel my faction relevance nearly constantly.

So what has me excited is seeing other factions. What my relationships within the Shadow Dragons would be. I went to save Treviso because I'm a Crow, but I'm curious about the reactivity if as a Crow I would have picked Minrathous, or, as a SD, I would have picked Treviso, betraying the expectations of my faction. I wanna see how interactions within the Necropolis and with Emmrich are different if I'm a Watcher and understand their culture. Or with the Wardens and Davrin if I'm a Warden.

That's the part that has me excited. Which is, to be fair, entirely subjective emotional flavor. It doesn't contradict at all what you described: which is that the game is (once again) on rails. There aren't really that many branching choices. Much fewer choices by comparison to other Dragon Age titles. I just... don't mind that at all? It's the journey itself that is fun.

Obviously, neither of us have finished the game yet, and I've been burned by ME3 and ME:A before, which took a dive for me right at the end lol. So. Could be famous last words lol. 😅

But, final review pending, that's what I meant and that's what I'm looking forward to as far as replaying the game goes.

[meredoubt]

Much like BG3 (and most games, if I'm honest), the first run or two of Veilguard will probably prove to be false starts, even if i'm having fun-which I am!

But trying to find the character's voice is always incredibly challenging, especially in a new location, and i have a very good ear for "he would not fucking say that/do that, reload." There's so much new context!

Like in many ways, right, for example, it's why Dark Urge is actually i think the optimal way to approach a first run of BG3, if you don't know shit about Faerun. Like I knew nothing about the politics or history, but it didn't matter. Cause neither did my boy Dirge. I'm always tempted by Origin or like, specialized dialogue, right. Brain wants the Special Choice. But the "special" options often reference shit I did not myself understand as a player, and my guy's supposed to have amnesia. So the Dark Urge options are actually much more understandable. He ALWAYS has motivation, and it IS violence. Makes it easier to navigate, weirdly. He's been broken down into his base components and urges, is staggering through the universe he used to terrorize, and eventually can string a few thoughts together that aren't cannibalNecropolis, and whatever those thoughts are, that's him. Like those thoughts are a miserable perfectionist bully, but it's him.

But like...Rook is not an unhinged serial killer. He doesn't have amnesia. In my case, yeah, he's been through shit and he's weirdly intense, but like. He's not been lobotomized. (He has been cut open tho, and he's got the scars to prove it)

But like. Yeah. I'm glad I went with Crows for a start because I know juuust enough about them that they're not totally unfamiliar. "Assassin's Guild" is fairly easy to understand. I know the region, I know the methods, etc.

I do think next full run, Dirge is going back to Mournwatch tho. I've got a handle on the combat, I'll understand the factions, the dynamics my guy has with his companions. Like, it came out of left field that his brooding ass would dote so much on Lace and Bellara. I thought for sure it'd be Lucanis and Neve, to start. Who knows, I've still got half the team to recruit 💀 having a good time though. With his goth Bowie ass. Doing pirouettes with a weapon twice as heavy as him. Iconic