#brona's bloom

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 treasure hoard rookanis enjoy 🪶

It's starting to feel cluttered, in his back corner of the pantry. All light sources are transferred to overturned produce crates or candlenails on the walls.

By his head, his favored coffee cups. If he has them here, the others won't break them accidentally.

To his feet, his ever-growing collection of gifts from Rook. Not large enough for a dragon hoard, not small enough for assorted presents.

A Wyvern Hoard, then.

The tea service. He doesn't even like tea, but she hadn't known that back then.

The wyvern tooth dagger he doesn't dare to bring along to jobs for fear of losing it or worse, damaging it.

The basket of dyed druffalo yarn, untouched save for the bright blue bundle, to knit a wrapsweater for her.

A small box of trinkets for Spite to rifle through when he is asleep.

Books she finds and thinks of him. Those she borrows and then returns, along with long lists of annotations about the most random aspects of the stories.

A brown tourmaline, whittled to resemble a coffee bean and put on a small-linked golden chain that Lucanis hasn't the heart to tell Rook is too short for his neck.

Grindstones tailored to the materials of each of his blades, numerous cutting oils.

The ribbon she got him specifically to tie his hair out of the way while cooking.

Flowers.

Flowers?

Blue buds sit in a tall glass, trimmed and watered and arranged with care, fallen petals folded over the rim of the glass.

Smell like milk thistle. And Rook. Healing and chocolate. Blight and pain. Rook got flowers.

They weren't here when he last left the pantry, no half-hour ago.

"Lucanis, I could use your- are you all right?"

When he turns to look at Rook, suddenly spawned in the doorframe, he realizes he'd stood uselessly, listlessly, in the middle of the pantry. Whatever help she meant to ask of him is forgotten, as she steps closer and rubs his arm.

Sometimes it gives him whiplash, how quickly their attentions toward one another shifted, how casually she reaches for him now and how eagerly he turns into her touch.

"Did you get me flowers?"

"Yeah." Like he was stating the color of the moon. "I got them from the Wetlands. Antoine and Evka tracked down somebody who could help find the Gloom Howler. Davrin wanted to talk to them." A pause. She looks him square in the face and he can't rein in his expression.

She'd gotten him flowers.

No one has ever gotten him flowers. Flowers that grow strong and beautiful in spite of their environment. Flowers in the very shade of blue she paints her nails with. Flowers that heal.

Rook saw a plant in the wild and thought of him.

He feels dizzy, all of a sudden.

"Brona's Bloom," she says. Scratches at the side of her neck, picking at a scab. Stalling. Hoping that explaining herself will make him react. "They grow there like weeds now. You're not allergic, right? Maybe I should've asked before, but... I wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd appreciate some flowers."

Her fingers squeeze at his arm. Her voice sounds like she's whispering at him from underwater.

When he stills, takes a breath, then another, looks down at her, her brow is knotted with concern and her head tilted.

"Sorry," he starts. Honesty. He didn't want to worry her. "No one's given me flowers before. Thank you."

"Well, I didn't really give them to you. I snuck into your room while you were in the bath and placed them there. Turns out this place doesn't have vases, so I had to improvise. Emmrich let me borrow one of his alchemy jars. He wants it back once they're wilted."

If Lucanis has his way, these flowers will never wilt for the rest of eternity. He knows a glass blower off the Rialto Bay who crystallizes flowers by each petal. There's an idea.

"You took the time to arrange them among my treasured gifts of yours so they would catch my eye when I return."

"They kind of glow, so they would've caught your eye without-"

"Rook." There's a surprised gasp from her when he pulls her close and pecks her cheekbone. "Thank you. This is a gift."

Her fingers slide into his left welt pocket, as they always do. Keeping him close, only a few thin layers between her hand and his stomach, but also loose enough to let him leave.

He's glad she's leaning against his side, covering his right pocket. If she put her fingers there, she would find the earrings he had made for her.

Her arm around the small of his back is cold. Soup for dinner, then. There's still some vegetable broth leftover. Maybe herbcakes to cut up into it. WHY IS SHE COLD? THE WHOLE ROOK IS COLD. He'll fix it. Warm soup for dinner, then blankets and the fireplace as he knits the demon away and she reads the romance he'd swiped from Blackthorne Manor. Maybe he'll pull over one of the seats, and they can share the blanket over their legs.

Spite, draping an arm over Rook's shoulders and leaning his cheek on her head, rolls his eyes at Lucanis until the prospect of entangled legs under wool covers.

"You're welcome, Lucanis," she says. Her chin presses into his ribs. "I'll get you flowers more often. Condition you to no longer be so frozen with surprise."

It makes him laugh. He leans down to kiss her.

"You say that as if you didn't like making me freeze with surprise." Her hand slips out of his pocket, toward his face. She pets his Adam's apple with her thumb. She traps his upper lip between hers. Spite moves a hand through her hair, and she shivers and presses closer.

"I do. I enjoy it thoroughly."

"Come on," he entangles them from each other, reluctantly, and Rook lets it happen just as reluctantly. She leans into Spite's fingertips on her scalp, whether she knows it or not.

But the sight is so enchanting Lucanis forgets why he pulled them apart in the first place.

🪶

[whispers in sten dragon age origins] the treasure hoard was a lie

something something crows offering gifts

you can pick up like 5 bouquets of brona's bloom in the wetlands and so my mind went "penguin pebble the wet eye man". men should get flowers too.

also ive been craving kräuterflädle for weeks now but i don't have the energy to make any and somehow no store within reasonable distance has them anymore all of a sudden.

@lanafofana this is a lil like what we talked about, maybe?

@chubritza our chat is comedy gold <3

[~rina]

[suranastair]

In Peace, Vigilance

[calluna-dekarios-dellamorte]

DAV OtisCam experiments! Gonna look into ReShade options next!

[tigereyes45]

Had an idea for an Emmrich x Davrin x Rook fanart piece but since I can't draw I'm just gonna write a fic about it instead. 😆

[sunsetwaltz]

Maybe. They're beautiful. Much like you. Ah, Rook. Hi!

[vigilskeep]

are the flowers in the hossberg wetlands a continuation of whatever andraste’s grace has going on? considering their resistance to the blight and how andraste’s grace helps the mabari survive in dao? it just strikes me that “brona’s bloom” is a very similar name (brona was andraste’s mother’s name)

[talesofesther]

flowers and gambles

Neve Gallus x Rook

Summary: After stopping the blight eruption in the Hossberg Wetlands, Rook gives Neve a bouquet of Brona's Blooms. Neve is caught off guard, but Rook offers a tempting gamble.

A/N: Just a cute little moment I thought of, because of how you can pick up a few of Brona's Blooms each time you find them in game. Hope you like it, feedback is always appreciated. :)

Masterlist

Rook wanted it to be perfect. She bit her tongue while carefully arranging the beautiful blue flowers on the small glass vase she'd bought especially for this. Freshly wet soil rested on the bottom of the vase and held the flowers in place—she had asked Harding's help for that, wanting them to stay healthy and thriving as long as possible.

The light of Rook's aquarium in her meditation chamber made the petals gleam, and she smiled sheepishly, feeling the familiar butterflies in her stomach. To the happiness of Lavendel and the Grey Wardens, Rook and her companions had successfully stopped the blight eruption in the Hossberg Wetlands. A feat that came with the most enchanting reward; little nooks and glades housing several of Brona's Blooms, once hidden, had returned.

Upon discovering the hidden wonder of a nature that had a chance to thrive anew, Rook couldn't help but notice the gleam in Neve's eyes as the detective took in the blue flowers all around them.

It all enthralled Neve, her fingertips brushed over petals in wonder. It made Rook question, for a moment, how rare such things were in Minrathous—for all the beauty of the blooms, however, Rook hadn't been able to take her eyes off of Neve.

The idea came instantly, and Rook ended up returning to the Wetlands not long after. She had picked up—most carefully, she wanted them to remain alive, after all—the most beautiful Brona's Blooms she could find. The ones where the blue of their petals gleamed brighter than a sunny sky and flowed gentler than a butterfly's wings.

Everything was, indeed, perfect. The only thing left for her now was to work up the courage to leave her room and carry the glass vase to the Lighthouse's study. She was, for lack of better words, incredibly nervous.

There had been a few stolen kisses, a couple of what could be called dates; but it's not like she and Neve were official. It's not like there was a label on what they were to each other.

Would this be too much? Is gifting her a vase of flowers crossing the line?

Rook figured she would regret it more if she didn't take that bet.

Her hands felt a little slick with perspiration as she held the flower vase, thumb tapping the edge with each step she took across the Lighthouse courtyard. Her heart sped up as she stopped just in front of Neve's door. Rook didn't give herself too much time to hesitate, soon Neve would notice her presence lingering by—she always did, somehow.

With a long breath in, Rook hid the flowers behind her back with one hand, and knocked on the door with the other.

"Come in," Neve's melodic voice called from inside.

The familiar warmth of Neve's room engulfed her as soon as Rook stepped inside. Soft golden light seeped in through the tall windows, several books and notes lay scattered across the floor and desk, wisps floated about and thrilled with Rook's new presence, and Neve sat by her desk, writing something down on a worn piece of paper.

"Hey, Trouble." There was more of a purr to Neve's tone when her eyes raised and found Rook standing in front of her desk. A soft smirk fought its way to Neve's lips, and she laid down her pen, "Always nice having you around."

A tingle ran up and down Rook's back, causing her cheeks to flush. "Hey… Neve." It was a breath, all she could manage when her detective took the air from her lungs each time she batted her eyelashes. Perhaps it was time Rook came up with a nickname for her, too.

"Did you need something?" Neve asked easily, before her smirk grew bolder; "Or did you just want to see me?"

Rook pursed her lips, giving an innocent shrug. "Who says seeing you isn't a need?"

It got a low chuckle from Neve, and Rook felt a twinge of pride. Her attention got robbed, however, when a wisp got a little too curious about what Rook was hiding behind her back. It floated closer, gently ruffling the blue petals.

"Hey, no." Rook grumbled, shooting a halfhearted glare over her shoulder, "None of that, this isn't for you." The wisp thrilled and grew brighter for an instant, paying no mind to Rook's complaint as it went back to join its friends on the ceiling. The other wisps became more animated, almost as if gossiping. Rook scrunched her eyebrows at them.

"Alright Trouble, what have you got there, hmm?" The sheer amusement in Neve's voice was unmistakable, and Rook realized the mage had kept eyes on her the whole time.

Neve got up from her plush green chair at last, she rounded the desk slowly, fingertips brushing the wooden surface. Until she came to stand just before Rook, their personal spaces mingling. Neve's perfume was all Rook could feel, and for an ice mage, her body radiated quite the warmth.

The golden light coming from the windows highlighted Neve's freckles magically, kissing her skin in a way that Rook envied.

"So," Rook cleared her throat, averting her gaze for just a moment or she wouldn't be able to form proper words, "You know how we helped with the blight in the Wetlands, right?"

Neve hummed, lips still quirked, "It rings a bell, yeah."

"And how the flowers came back after?"

With bewitched eyes slowly darting lower on Rook's face and then back up, Neve nodded.

"Well, I…" Rook adjusted her grip on the flower vase behind her back, stalling for a second and building braveness. "I noticed that you seemed to like them. So I went back and…" With a timidness she wasn't quite used to, Rook finally brought the arrangement of vivid blue flowers forward, keeping the glass vase in her hands between her and Neve, "And made you this."

In an instant, the easy confidence Neve exuded faded away, giving room for a small gasp of surprise and an evident flush to her cheeks. Neve kept quiet for a long moment, her lips hovering open while her eyes shifted between Rook, to the blue flowers, and back to Rook. Almost as if unbelieving, as if it was the first time she'd ever been gifted a bouquet. Maybe it was.

Rook's heart thundered inside her ribcage, and she didn't dare breathe when she reached for one of Neve's hands. The touch was delicate and all too careful, but Neve let her; allowing Rook to guide her hand to hold the glass vase.

Rook kept her hand atop Neve's, thumb gently brushing over knuckles.

"Rook…" It sounded a lot like a warning. But it was so quiet, almost broken. Neve's eyes were shining with a sheen layer of what could be tears, but still, Rook was pleasantly surprised when the detective didn't pull away—instead, raised her other hand to take the flowers from Rook.

Neve simply looked at the blue petals for a few beats, reaching to ghost a touch over one of them, feeling their softness between her fingers. "You didn't… have to."

And Neve's eyes shifted up to Rook, all big and vulnerable and scared. Neve hid her heart behind lock and key, but right now, Rook had a feeling she was being allowed a glimpse into Neve's very soul—alone for too long, for even amongst fear, it longed to be loved, cared for. She didn't know she could fall even deeper in love with the detective, but Neve did always surprised her too.

"I know, I wanted to," Rook spoke, words rolling easily off her tongue. "A pretty flower for a pretty girl, and all that." She thought about how Neve called her sunshine for believing in happy endings, and wondered if Neve would someday be willing to take that gamble with her.

A quiet laugh escaped the detective, she tried to hide the smile behind her hair. There was a moment of consideration. Neve always had awful luck in games of chance. But she pursed her lips and closed her eyes, before carefully placing the vase with Brona's Blooms on top of her desk—that's where it would stay, she had decided already; a good place with good light, right beside her.

She turned her gaze back to Rook, those intense coffee-and-amber eyes moved over Rook’s features, drinking her in as if she were a daydream Neve wanted to remember forever. She raised a hand, fingers hovering beside Rook's cheek, yearning but not touching.

Rook waited, she'd always wait for Neve.

"I could kiss you right now," Neve whispered, near breathless and filled with what sounded dangerously close to adoration.

Near the blue flowers on Neve's desk, Rook moved to intertwine their free hands; unhurried and timid, as if approaching the stray cats of Dock Town. "Why don't you?"

Neve's lips parted in a shaky exhale. Her touch finally found Rook's cheek. Palm to jaw, fingertips sliding up to tangle in the soft strands of Rook's hair, pulling her closer as if it were second nature.

Their noses brushed first, even the wisps had quieted down for once. Neve closed her eyes when her upper lip touched Rook's. This wasn't anything like their first kiss; it wasn't hurried or charged with both anxiety and passion, under the rain and beside the waves on Neve's favorite dock. This was intimate, overwhelmingly so; warm and slow touches, two souls dancing around each other in their own little corner of the fade.

Neve was the one who fully closed the gap, her hand pulling more intently on the back of Rook's head while her lips pressed almost desperately to the other woman's. Neve felt Rook take hold of her waist, tightly, as if she knew Neve could second guess all of this at any moment. And the detective pecked her lips once, twice, before lingering longer.

There was a soft crease to Neve's brows when she brought both hands up to hold onto Rook, her body couldn't be closer if she tried, as if afraid Rook would slip through her fingers.

She only pulled away when her lungs started to complain about lack of air. Neve allowed herself to be held close, wide eyes searching Rook's face for something. Yet Neve couldn't help but smirk when she spotted the swollen lips she had caused.

Rook refrained from words, instead brushing strands of Neve's hair behind her ear with a tender gesture. She drew closer, laying a small but lingering kiss on the corner of Neve's lips.

There was a promise there. One too dangerous to be spoken, but Rook knew Neve had heard her loud and clear.

A beat passed, and then two. The detective held Rook's gaze. Under the soft golden light seeping through the windows and the distant thrill of the wisps, Neve knew she was doomed. But she leaned in, capturing Rook's lips again, anyway.

Neve never did turn down a good gamble.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Neve's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[miriani-lavellan]

Some interesting little tidbits about the world that are gleaned from Mementos found: It looks like there's already an almost full list here.

After the Exalted March against the Dalish, the Antivan crows signed some kind of treaty or agreement promising to take action if another march against the elves was going to take place. It seems they did 'stand with the Dales' in some form.

The Crow mementos in general seem to indicate when they realised the influence they had, they also began to discuss how they should use that influence, and the responsibilities they had.

When an archdemon is slain, the Grey Wardens recover a fang to keep as a trophy.

The Wardens keep a record called The Book of Ashes to record not the dead, but the Wardens who survived the Blights.

Scrying exists to tell the contents of certain containers or the function of certain magical items.

The Shadow Dragons disguise their manifestos and propaganda as spellbooks, in the hope the Venatori will pick them up and read them without realising what they are, and thus have their mind changed.

The Wardens wear blue because it's a local dye available in the Anderfels - I think we can probably say 'Anderfels Azure' is derived from Brona's Bloom. Poetic, as it's one of 'the first to fade when blight emerges' and that they mell of warm honey and rainy spring mornings—things the blight forgets.' The uniform is a reminder of what the Blight takes, and a hope for its return all the same.

Antivans typically have coffee (with or without an alcoholic addition) after dinner.

The Antivan Crows might once have been the Antivan Ravens. Both birds appear in early motifs, until finally crows won out.

Somehow, Blackwall's carved rocking griffon (or one of them) found its way into the Dellamorte estate.

Early post-Veil writings are found in a source called 'The Days of Death,' in which an ordinary elf records the realities of mortality, and grapples with the new need for food and shelter. Other early writings indicate they were attempting to map their new home.

One of the ways Kal-Sharok survived the Blight was by abandoning the caste system.

There's a scandalous... hit piece? book on the Inquisition, called 'Inquisition Exposed.' It's illustrated. Edit: My bad, it's smut. It's just smut.

In Nevarra, it's popular to give children coming of age a gift of necromantic, allegorical illustrations.

During the Storm Age in Nevarra, there was a trend of artists mixing their own blood into the paints. They were discouraged by the Watches as it kept leading to works of art getting possessed.

There's an undead thief making troubled around Nevarra City known as the 'half-made bandit'. He escaped from an anatomy class.

A Cassandra mention when considering the funeral of a Nevarran prelate.

Some spirits prefer possessing inanimate objects over the living.

Emphasising the Mourn Watch and the Mortalitasi in general's complex relationship with the Chantry, once a (probably possessed) Chasind shaman ended up sheltering with them.

Ancient Qunari did not have horses.

There seems to be, or have been, an element of ancestor worship in Qunari religion.

[skyhavens]

dascha and her brona's bloom eyes. 🖤

[bossuary]

Brona's Bloom with one leaf more...

[shivunin]

Artifacts of Thedas: Veilguard Edition

A list of 40 prompts (for writing or art) themed after the locations in Veilguard. A follow up to this more general list.

A book bound in blighted skin

A brazier that won’t stay lit

Silver shaving mirror, dented on one side

A bronze bell hung in a cemetery

Letters taken from the library in Weisshaupt, tied in a bundle

A green urn capped with a skull

An empty chest in a dragon’s nest

A shield bristling with spikes

Seven daggers lodged in a wooden table

A broken piece of Trevisan glass

Pages floating in a Hossberg mud puddle

A Fade-touched bow

A green crystal, marked by a spirit

Thick, barbed chain used for hunting dragons

A mural in bright teal and red

A Crow’s mask

A single sprig of Brona’s Bloom

The tail feather of a Griffon

Glowing statue of an owl

An empty Antivan coffee pot

Fulgerite formed from a Vinsomer’s breath*

A fine poignard, meticulously sharpened

Broken chains, discarded in a pile

A Minrathous gossip column, neatly folded

One broken crossbow bolt

A neat coil of dar-saam

Leather-bound volume on necromancy

A thorn-choked tunnel

A mage’s orb, the light inside gone dim

Various bars of precious metals, neatly organized

A soft teal scarf, lightly creased

Fresh gingerwort truffles

Letter sealed with a faction’s insignia

A statue of a howling wolf, its surface cool to the touch

Living wood in the shape of a hand

A statue of Andraste, blood spatter at its feet

A rune, frost clinging to the surface

Wood shavings whittled from a block

A map of Arlathan forest, its surface slightly damaged

A Dalish token of affection

*Sand-coated glass formed by lightning striking sand

[pinayelf]

WIP Wfriday

Tagged by @shivunin @ardentgrace @greypetrel thank you all ❤️

This is very late lol

First off is baby Lace ❤️

and second is Biyavrin (again) lol…I’m going to draw them in a field of Brona’s bloom

Tagging: @thedissonantverses @mythals-whore @megaeratheefury but no pressure!

[polygone-moi]

Rook character development: trinkets & decorations

@galedekarios tagged me in this wonderful endeavour, thank you so much!

Rules: share what trinkets and decorations your Rook has in their room in the Lighthouse. If you'd like, you can add explanations and headcanons for their chosen keepsakes. Tag as many people as you like!

My Rook, Qamil, led a nomad life, so having furniture where to put trinkets on is a whole experience to her, one she finds weird and fun. I can see her keeping all sorts of objects (those valuables she should sell), whether they mean something to her or not. But among the trinkets that do mean something:

1. Elven Bass 2. Elven Artifact Fragment 3. Glittering Mosaic

As a Qunari raised by an elven mother who herself doesn't know much about elven culture, Qamil's life is one of fragments that don't make a coherent mosaic. But elven trinkets are the ones that bring comfort, since she spent most of her life in Arlathan Forest. The elven bass, specifically, reminds her of her 'father', a man she never knew and who wasn't even her father, but a man her mother loved and lost, and who had allegedly the most wonderful singing voice.

4. Varric's Shaving Mirror

She usually laughs off Varric's praises, but she never realised how lonely she felt until she met him. Like he saw right through her.

5. Exquisite Serpentine Hookah

Qamil is an occasional smoker and is glad to be able to share some quiet moments with Neve.

6. Brona's Bloom Bouquet

Against the overwhelming odds, Qamil just takes the fight one step at a time, never really thinking about the end goal. Those flowers from Hossberg Wetlands, they're the first time she believed they could actually make it.

7. Azure Crow Mask

She just likes the shape and the colour… nothing else to see here.

8. Qunari Face Paint

Qamil finally sought out knowledge about Qunari culture as a young adult. She's still learning, picking and choosing things about the Qun. She's passionate about applying vitaar.

9. Sketches: Horns

She lost her right horn in the Veil Jumper debacle and thought she would just wait for it to grow back, until a wild conversation with Taash and Davrin one night. Why would I necessarily replace it with an identical one, she asked. She kept Davrin's sketch about possible replacement designs.

10. Griffon Lantern

What's not to like about a griffon lantern? There's the proverbial fight of the light against the dark, and also, griffons are so cool.

Not tagging anyone because posting all this already feels too scary, but as always, I'd like to say that I absolutely love learning about others' OCs — especially Rooks — so I'd be very interested in everyone's takes on this.

[tigereyes45]

I wish I could draw so I could do a picture of the scene that was in my head. I don't have the skill under my belt however so here's this fanfic instead! This was the fic I mentioned in this post.

Summary:

Rook, Davrin, and Emmrich agree to help Evka and Antoine out with some things in order to get some quiet time in the cave filled with Brona's Bloom after they've saved the world. It's well worth it.

Preview of fic:

Rook lowers the cup. They stare deep into the shaking liquid. What stares back in a face they finally recognize. The person they weren’t sure they wanted to become, but who Varric knew they could be. A hero.

An easy smile appears across the reflection. Here they are, after the blights, dreaming of a better future, with Davrin and Emmrich. Maybe they can have everything?

Varric would warn against such hopeful thinking. The world never stops taking. It was one of his many lessons, but he also always told them that if they were ever unsure to look into that handheld mirror and see the face of a hero.

They don’t really feel like a hero, but for now they’ll let themselves sit in their delusions and dream of a future where everything goes right and they never lose anyone again.

“To great stories!” Rook cheers, shoving their cup into the air as they push down the somberness of their thoughts.

Emmrich smiles softly. “To love stories, my dears.” His cup meets Falwyn’s.

Davrin pushes himself up off his side. He grabs his empty cup and taps it against theirs. “To peaceful moments like this,” Davrin looks around at all the flowers. His eyes linger on the three. “And to surviving the blight to end all blights!”

[sunsetwaltz]

Brona Blooms

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 28

NOTE: I was so, so, so fortunate that @ / mink.malerei over on Threads selected my Rook, Naimeryn, to practice tattoo designs on! I’m *obsessed* with how Naimy looks in her style 🥹🥹 Additionally, I’m so obsessed with this beautiful blood lotus and black lotus tattoo design, I ✨needed✨ to make it canon. So this snippet is inspired by this beautiful painting by my Threads friend :3

[Naimy wants a new tattoo]

——————————————————————————

“Harding?” Naimeryn asked uncertainly. Maybe she was with Taash?

“Rook! I’m in the corner!”

Oh, good.

“Hey,” Naimeryn greeted again, walking around the pool to where Harding crouched, tending what she thought might be elfroot.

“Hey, yourself,” Harding nodded, standing and turning to face her. “Did you need me for something?”

“Um, sort of,” Naimeryn said, rubbing her arm self consciously. “Do you have anything in here that’s native to Ferelden?”

“Oh, sure,” Harding nodded. “Actually, the Lighthouse must have known I was feeling a little homesick, because… almost all of these are native to home.”

Naimeryn looked around with a growing awe of the room. “Oh,” she said softly, simultaneously feeling overwhelmed. She’d thought this would be… easy.

“You never want to talk about Ferelden,” Harding said gently. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Oh, I —“ Naimeryn put her fists on her hips and surveyed Harding’s room, wishing something would just… jump out at her. She sighed. “It’s probably stupid.”

“You came all the way in here,” Harding pointed out, nudging her with her elbow. “If it’s that important to you, it can’t be that stupid.”

“It’s just… ok. Um. So, I’ve been spending a lot of time in Arlathan with Davrin and Bellara, lately.”

“Right. It’s good for you, I think? You always seem happier when you come back.”

“Do I?”

“I think that’s why Davrin always invites you on his little walks. Help you clear your head. Get some *real* air.”

“Oh,” Naimeryn smiled, just a little. She loved their outings with Assan. She had never once suspected Davrin had a motive other than bonding when he asked her to go. Now that she knew.. it was really sweet. She was glad he did.

Even if he was somewhat insufferable at times.

“Well, anyway. Yesterday they.. taught me to make a flower crown. Well, Bellara taught me. Davrin just showed off how good he is at it,” she rolled her eyes, and Harding laughed.

“That sounds like a nice time,” she said.

“It was. I mean I was *terrible* at it,” Naimeryn laughed, feeling her shoulders relax. “But the whole thing, it got me thinking. About how elves have always kind of been one with nature, best we know, and I’ve always been.. *not*. But, yesterday, being out in that clearing with them, just sitting in the grass… I felt more like an elf in a *good* way than… than I ever have.”

Naimeryn bit her lip. Why did saying it out loud make her so emotional?

Harding touched her arm, just a gentle tap to remind her she was there for her. “That… that’s really great, Naimy. I’m so happy for you.”

Naimeryn smiled. “Thanks. I… I know the Dalish usually get tattoos for big moments in their lives. Mine aren’t really that, but I feel like I want to… honor that tradition in my own way? So I want to get a new tattoo. Something… floral, maybe?”

She took a deep breath. “And I thought… I thought about getting something like Brona’s Bloom, but I have that pretty strongly associated with the Wardens, and I already have my griffon tattoo. And I thought about maybe some of the flowers we made crowns out of, but…”

Another deep breath. Why did all of this sound so stupid now that she was saying it out loud?

“I just thought, if this is about… *embracing* who I am, finding myself amidst… everything. Exploring my roots. I just thought…”

“You thought you should get a Ferelden flower… like you!” Harding said brightly.

*Like… me?* “Yeah… something like that, I guess.”

“I love that idea!” Harding beamed.

“Really?” Naimeryn asked. “You don’t think it’s dumb?”

“I really, really don’t,” Harding shook her head and patted Naimeryn’s elbow. “Come on! Let’s pick you a flower or two. I’ve got some ideas.”