#davrin dragon age fanfiction

[bg3daydream]

Not like the tales (Davrin x Rook Fanfiction) Chapter 2

Davrin x female Rook Thorne

Summary: Canon divergence, Rook is already a grey warden when Davrin joins, and she's put in charge of his joining and his first weeks as a recruit and junior warden. Their relationship developes into more than just partner wardens, despite Rook's best efforts, since she knows that the life of a warden is a life of loss. Rook is a Dalish mage (I made a poll and that's the option that won).

Tags: Romance, friends to lovers, hiden feelings, slow burn, fluff, angst, hurt/emotional hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence and blood, eventual smut, canon divergence, eventual happy ending.

Chapter 1 / Masterlist of my fics / AO3

Rook didn’t take Davrin to the training grounds, instead, she led him up to the tower where she spent her time when she was not training or trying to find darkspawn.

She sat in the now familiar window seat, watching Davrin as he looked through the window, nodding to himself. “This’s a nice place to protect this outpost. With a good bow, you can kill a big chunk of enemies before they reach the building.” He looked at her. “That’s what you do? Your role here?

“Pff…nah. I’m here most of the time but there’s no need to take watch, I don’t think anything has threatened this place for longer than I’ve been a warden.”

Davrin stepped away from the window and looked at her. “What do you do here, then?”

“At the outpost or at the tower?” Rook replied evasively.

“Both?”

“At the outpost, I was ordered here a couple of weeks ago.” She didn’t elaborate. “At the tower…I like looking through the window.” She shrugged, glancing through it and to the forest. 

She noticed Davrin smiling as he looked at her and wondered if she'd been too honest. She’d totally lost her mask of a formal, serious warden, hadn’t she? Perhaps she’d never managed to wear it. “You say all Dalish do is wander the forest and that you were tired of it…but I miss it.”

“Rook…Warden Thorne,” Davrin corrected himself, and when she looked at him to tell him he could just call her Rook, he was looking at her with such softness in his eyes, that she feared she might cry. “I’m really sorry for what happened to you and your clan. I might have left mine, but I’m still Dalish, and I can’t imagine anything worse than what you went through.”

“Thank you.” Rook swallowed hard and got up, eager to think on something else. “You wanted to see the training grounds, let’s go.”

“Wait…you didn’t tell me why they sent you here where you say there’s nothing for a warden to do,” Davrin reminded her and she shot him a wary look, she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about that with him. Davrin shrugged. “I’m just asking, you’ve been interrogating me.”

“Because you are the recruit who wants to join and I’m your superior.” Rook’s defensiveness made her snap.

“True, that’s true.” Davrin’s friendly, relaxed face was serious now, his jaw set. “Apologies, Warden Thorne.”

“Just…it’s just Rook,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for and mean. It’s just…I messed up, that’s why I was sent here. I disagreed with the First Warden’s strategy about a mission and he didn’t like my input, so he sent me here as punishment. He didn’t word it like that, but I know it was that.”

Davrin looked at her, thoughtful, before he spoke. “Was the First Warden’s strategy bad?”

Rook shrugged. “It was not bad, but I thought some parts could be improved.”

“If he’s a good leader, he should listen to suggestions and implement them if they’re good,” Davrin said, matter of factly, and Rook snorted.

“If you end up joining, you better not say anything like that when the First Warden’s around or someone who might tell him.” She was only half-joking. “Besides…I was not the nicest, I might have said my suggested strategy a bit…let’s say bluntly.” She’d lost her cool and she’d been disrespectful to a superior, she admitted it.

“I still don’t think you deserved any punishment,” Davrin insisted.

Rook shrugged, trying to pretend it didn’t upset her. “It wasn’t our first disagreement. I know he thinks I’m a shit warden.” She hadn’t meant to say the last part, but she couldn’t stop it.

“I doubt you’re a shit warden,” Davrin offered, and Rook scoffed.

“You can’t know that, you don’t know me,” she snapped. She didn’t want his pity, neither did she want him buttering her up so she’d rush his joining…she refused to acknowledge that he might be saying that because he was nice or because he believed it. “I’m being a shit warden right now, if you ask them,” she said bitterly.

“How’s so?” Davrin arched an eyebrow, looking unimpressed and like he didn’t believe her.

“I shouldn’t be losing time walking you around and questioning you about things that don’t matter,” she began. “And I certainly shouldn’t be telling you how warden’s life is death and how you’ll have a short life and no future if you join,” she scoffed, it was the truth. “We take everyone, we need every last warden we can get, we always need more because the darkspawn threat is always here and our numbers are not as good as they used to be. I should have made you join already, no explanation, no questions. But here I am, trying to scare you off.”

Davrin blinked at her as she ranted, and then he smiled. “You’re honest and genuine, I think that’s good, and you care for people, you want better for them, how can all that make you a bad warden? I think it is the opposite and I don’t care what anyone, First Warden or not, thinks.” 

Rook wanted to smile and grimace at the same time. She liked his spirit, his ideas, his thoughts, but he shouldn’t say things like that and she shouldn't encourage that kind of talk. Perhaps Laura was right and she’d get him in trouble before he even joined.

“Recruit, I told you not to speak like that…” She sighed.

Davrin grinned…too charming for his own good, and for her own too, perhaps. “I’m not a warden yet, so I can say that. And if I call you Rook, then you call me Davrin,” she said. “And Rook…you’re not scaring me off.”

“I’ve already realized that…” Rook shook her head with a sigh. She still hated the thought of seeing Davrin going through his joining, his potential death, and condemning someone like him to this life. “Come on, you wanted to see the training ground, I’ll show you.”

On their way there, Rook was silent but for some comments here and there about the outpost, while Davrin nodded along, also silent, but Rook could notice him taking discreet glances at her from time to time, as if he were studying her, but she decided not to comment on it, sure he’d come up with any sassy or charming, or both, remark that she wouldn't know how to counteract.

On the courtyard, Ser Blasco, a warden veteran of the fifth blight, who was now in charge of training recruits and junior wardens in that outpost, was instructing Alan and Marcus as they fought. Ser Blasco was an excellent fighter and a good trainer, and at first glance, it might seem he was the same as always, but he’d told Rook once how he’d started to feel the first signals of his calling.

Rook glanced at Davrin as they walked. His eyes were set on the wardens, serious and thoughtful as he studied the fight, as if he was getting ready for it, planning strategy already.

“Halt!” Ser Blasco stopped the fight when he saw them.

“Sorry for the interruption.” Rook nodded at Davrin. “This is Davrin, a new recruit.”

“The one who fought the ogre,” Ser Blasco said, looking Darvin up and down, almost as if studying him for weakness and strengths already, even at first glance. It was one of the things that made him a good trainer, but sometimes it felt a bit intrusive and awkward.  

“The very same,” Davrin confirmed, nodding.  Rook could see him tensing under the veteran’s scrutiny and under the wary looks of the junior wardens. 

She didn’t dare to hope it might change his mind and scare him off, though, she might just have met Davrin, but she’d the impression he was stubborn and he wouldn’t back down from a challenge when his mind was set on what he wanted.

“Davrin, this is Ser Blasco, he’s in charge of training, he’ll have you feeling sore in muscles you didn’t know existed,” she introduced him and almost smiled when she noticed Marcus nodding along as he grimaced, he’d experienced the training. “And these are Marcus and Alan, our new junior wardens.”

“Nice to meet you,” Davrin smiled at them but his eyes were still studying them, almost like Ser Blasco was studying him.

“How was fighting an ogre?” Marcus asked, eager.

“I got lucky,” Darvin said and Rook was surprised he’d say something like that, instead of trying to show off. “I wasn’t as prepared as I should have. I didn’t know what I was hunting, other than it was big and a monster. You shouldn’t hunt monsters until you know what they are and you’re ready for it. That was a mistake that  I won't make again”.

“Yet I’m told you tracked the ogre yourself and were holding your own when the wardens found you, and you helped put it down,” Ser Blasco commented.

“Yes, ser,” Darvin said. “But without the wardens I don’t think I’d have left that fight unharmed. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Ser Blasco nodded. “It’s good that we can see our mistakes and work on them. In the fight against the darkspawn, we can’t afford to make the same mistake twice.” He looked at Davrin up and down again. “So, what do you say, recruit, I know you fought an ogre and just left the infirmary, but do you want to show us how a monster hunter fights?”

Davrin grinned, his face lighting up, as if not only did he want to but was eager to do it, and he wouldn’t back down from a challenge, that much had already been clear to Rook.

“Take any weapon you want.” Ser Blasco waved at the stack of weapons. “And choose who you want to fight.”

Davrin looked at the junior wardens while they did the same. They looked wary and Rook couldn’t blame them, all they knew about Davrin was that he hunted monsters and had fought an ogre by himself. Perhaps they were nervous about losing a fight against him in front of Ser Blasco and herself.

“I don’t know…it doesn’t feel fair to choose. They’re both wardens together, they can fight me together.” Davrin smiled and shrugged.

“You’re going to fight them both at the same time?” Rook rolled her eyes. Was he trying to prove himself again? Silly. Perhaps she was being unjust, though, perhaps he didn’t want to choose and pit the juniors against each other…nah, looking at that cocky smirk, he wanted to show off. “Ser Blasco, in all your years training, have you ever heard how cocky wardens live less?”

Her silly joke got a laugh out of the veteran warden and Rook was proud of it. Davrin turned his head to look at her with that smirk but he didn’t say a word.

“Your choice, recruit,” Ser Blasco said and Davrin nodded, taking a sword like the one the other wardens were using. 

“Please, don’t beat him much, Laura just fixed him and I’d hate her good work to be ruined,” Rook couldn’t help but taunt Davrin a bit more, not with that cocky smirk of him, and when he shot her a playful glare, smiling, she couldn’t help her own smile.

“Begin,” Ser Blasco commanded. 

At first, the men only looked at each other, then took tentative steps back and forth, but neither of them was the first to attack, as if they were unsure. Davrin was the first to go for it, striking at Alan, but the junior warden stopped the blade with his own, pushing Davrin back, though he was quick to recover and retaliate. Soon, Marcus was joining too.

Ser Blasco’s eyes were focused on the battle, he didn’t miss a detail, as if mentally taking notes and reviewing Davrin’s fighting. Rook knew that by the end of it, he’d have a big list of corrections and things to improve, along with a long list of exercises to practice, for the three men. 

She’d assumed Davrin knew how to fight, she knew he couldn’t be bad at it, if he was a monster hunter, but still, she appreciated what she was seeing. Davrin was good, that much was clear, even if he didn’t seem to have much of a formal training in sword-fighting like Alan and Marcus did, and she thought she caught a couple of movements he might have learned with his Dalish clan.

He was holding his own, he had the upper hand more often than not, and even when he seemed to lose it, he didn’t give up and managed to retaliate somehow. However, Rook thought Alan and Marcus weren’t taking advantage of their numbers, they weren’t fighting Davrin together but almost taking turns, only focusing on themselves individually instead of joining their efforts.

“Ser, may I say something?” She asked Ser Blasco, who nodded. “Junior wardens, he’s beating your asses and he’s one against two, why are you both not fighting together? Work together or lose and be thankful he’s not darkspawn! Come on!”

“What’s this, my mentor is giving advice to beat me? The betrayal!” Davrin joked, panting and laughing. “I feel hurt!” He turned his head to grin at her, happy and handsome, the sight making Rook feel some odd and unwelcome flutter in her belly.

Davrin probably soon regretted having taken his focus from the fight to her, as the pommel of Alan’s sword hit him right in the stomach, cutting his breath short, his grin giving way to a grimace, but he managed to stop the next hit.

No matter the blows, Davrin seemed to enjoy the fight, his good mood apparent even when the combined efforts of the two trained wardens began to take their toll on him and he found it harder to keep up. Alan and Marcus had also lost their wariness, and the men were fighting as if they’d always been training together.

“That is!” Ser Blasco nodded, pleased. “Warden’s fight together against darkspawn, that’s how we win, fighting as one!” 

He took his own sword and approached the fighting men. “Darkspawn’s gonna swarm you, dozens of them together, so Rook’s right, you better learn to work together. Now, the three of you, come.” He raised his sword at them, waiting for them to approach first.

The men looked at Ser Blasco, then at each other, and nodded, trying to coordinate and fight him together as if they’d always done so, as if they hadn’t been fighting each other moments ago. It was nice to see, to Rook at least. They were good together, she was glad Davrin fitted in, if he ended up joining, and Rook knew that wardens who fought darkspawn together like that had a better chance of survival.

Their combined efforts didn’t avail them much against the veteran warden, soon, he had disarmed them all as if it was nothing.

“Shit, you’re good!” Davrin laughed, good-natured, but then he turned serious. “I mean…Ser…I’m sorry…” He began as if he were worried he’d broken protocol. Ser Blasco just laughed.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about rank here.” He waved it off. “You’re a good fighter, Davrin, but we’ll make you better, you’ll be a good warden.”

Davrin grinned and Rook could see his pride at the veteran’s words. It was a beautiful sight, yet it filled her with dread…There was no way she was going to manage to talk him out of joining now.

“To make him a good warden, first we’ll have to feed him a proper meal,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, she wanted to get Davrin away from the training grounds that he was enjoying way too much. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchens now.”

“Wait.” Davrin turned that stupidly pretty smile to her. “You don’t fight?”

“Yes, she does.” Alan grimaced as if he remembered the last time they’d trained together.

“Fight me, then.” Davrin was grinning as he challenged her, good-natured. “You’re my mentor, I want to see you kick my ass…unless you think it’ll be the other way around.” 

He was still smiling, Rook knew that his words were just teasing, taunting her like she’d taunted him. He seemed eager to see her fight, and Rook didn’t like to show off, but he was making her almost want to.

“Someone wants their eyebrows scorched…” Marcus murmured and Alan snickered.

“I’m not your mentor, I’m just in charge of your joining,” Rook said as she rolled her shoulders and stepped in front of him. “But sure, come try…I’ll be careful, don’t worry, I know you’d hate to postpone your joining because you got hurt.” That wouldn’t be too bad, actually…but Rook couldn’t get herself to actually hurt him.

Davrin just smiled again before he went serious as he looked her up and down in a way that made Rook wonder if he was studying her for the fight, or checking her out, or both. The thought was too distracting and she rushed to stop it.

“You are not taking a weapon?” Davrin asked when she didn’t move.

“I’m a mage.” Rook summoned small swirls of magic, that cracked like lightning, to both her hands for a couple of seconds, and she’d lie if she said she didn’t enjoy Davrin’s look of wonder and his smile.

“Alright.” Davrin nodded, squaring his shoulders and planting his feet firmly on the ground, sword ready, but he didn’t move towards her.

“Are you waiting to see if she can summon darkspawn or something, recruit?” Ser Blasco teased him when he kept waiting.

Darvin didn’t say anything to that or looked at the veteran warden, his eyes fixed on Rook, seeming hesitant.

“I’m waiting,” Rook taunted him. “Come on, recruit, strike.”

Davrin still seemed unsure, but he nodded, squaring his shoulders again. When he struck, though, his sword stopped before getting too close to her, and he glared at the junior wardens when they laughed at his uncertainty

“You weren’t going to dodge,” he accused Rook, she hadn’t moved a muscle. “And you can’t parry, you got no shield or sword, or…nothing.”

Rook wondered if she should be offended by his lack of trust in her ability to defend herself, but she couldn’t. It was kind of sweet, that he worried he might hurt her and he didn’t want to. Besides, judging by his reaction, perhaps he was not used to fighting magic.

“Do you think I’d let you hit me?” She arched an eyebrow and Davrin shook his head. “Then come on, fight.” 

Davrin got ready to strike again, and this time, he didn’t stop. When the sword was about to hit her, Rook summoned an orb of lightning to her hand, which quickly spread to shield her from the sword. Davrin was lucky he was still hesitant, barely putting any strength on his strike, because the force of the blow went back to him as the sword hit the magic shield.

He staggered a bit, and before he could catch up on what had happened, Rook quickly took her hidden dagger, striking at Davrin, her magic flying from the blade, amplifying the blow. She was pleased to see that, despite his surprise, Davrin was quick to try to dodge, he had good instincts and good reflexes. 

Still, he cursed when some of the lightning strikes hit him, creating small holes in his sleeve. Rook had been careful, though, trying to make sure her magic wasn’t too powerful and that the strike wouldn’t fully reach Davrin, which required more effort than probably a non-mage realized.

Davrin looked at her in wonder, smiling and laughing, as if she hadn’t just hit him with lighting. “That’s amazing!”

Rook was not immune to his praise or to the way he was looking at her, but she would rather not acknowledge the way it made her feel. Instead, she sent some tiny lightning strikes around Davrin’s feet, carefully not to hit him. He just smiled wider.

“Try again,” she challenged.

Davrin did, and they fought for a bit. He was observant and a quick thinker, Rook was realizing that as she saw him getting used to her magic and the way it worked, the way she used it. That was probably one of the things that made him a good monster hunter. Still, he wouldn’t get the upper hand on her, not that he seemed to mind, he still seemed to be enjoying the fight, and Rook realized that she was too.

“Alright, I’d say that’s enough for Davrin for today,” Ser Blasco stopped them. “He has to get ready for his joining.” His words killed Rook’s good mood in a heartbeat, instead filling her with dread at the thought of Davrin’s joining.

“I wouldn’t say no to free food,” Davrin joked.

“You will when you see the porridge,” Marcus said, cursing when Ser Blasco hit him with the flat of his sword on the back of the head, while Alan snickered.

“Okay, I’ll show you the kitchens…” Rook nodded, though her smile and good mood were gone. “Ser Blasco, junior wardens, I’ll see you all later.”

“This was great, thanks.” Davrin grinned at them. “I’ll see you all soon for more training I hope.”

Alan and Marcus shared a look, and Rook knew they were thinking they might not see Davrin again, if he went through with the joining. Nobody said anything, though.

“Good luck, recruit,” Ser Blasco said, solemn, and Darvin’s smile faltered for a moment, as if he could feel that something was off, but he nodded, thanked them again, and followed Rook.

*

Rook served Davrin a bowl of porridge and looked at his face as he tasted it, but he didn’t complain about it, despite being obvious he didn’t like it, and he kept eating, actually devouring the thing. Everyone was right, he’d be a good warden, despite how Rook resisted the idea. She squinted at him as he finished the tasteless bowl in less than a minute

“How long have you gone without eating?” She asked.

“I have been eating.” Davrin shrugged. “But not much this last couple of days, there wasn’t much game, I think the ogre scared it.”

She should have fed him right away instead of letting him fight. “Do you want another bowl?” When Davrin gave her a bashful smile and a nod, Rook gave him a refill of tasteless porridge.

“I’d never fought a mage before,” Davrin said between mouthfuls of food. “You’re great at it.”

Rook ignored the feelings that his compliment sent to her stomach. “Thank you. You are a good fighter too.”

“I told you I was.” Davrin gave her his cocky smirk. He ate the last spoonful of food before looking at her again. “It was great, really.” He grinned. “This is what I want, fighting together against the darkspawn for the greater good.” 

He sounded so idealistic, so eager, his smile was so beautiful, but it filled Rook with dread, knowing there was no way of changing his mind now.

“Out there, everyone’s out for themselves,” Davrin kept going. “But not here, not with the wardens. It’s like you and Ser Blasco said, we wardens have to fight together, work together.”

Rook considered his words and leaned back on her seat with a sigh. So, he wanted to be part of a group that worked together... “You miss your clan.”

“What?” Davrin’s eyes opened wide before he frowned at her. “No! Well…sometimes…” He shrugged and looked away from her. “But that doesn’t mean I want to go back, or that I don’t know why I left! Clan’s life’s not for me.”

“Davrin-”

“No!” Davrin stopped her before she could say anything else. “I’m not you, Rook! I know you lost your clan and I know it was horrible, I’m sure you wish you could go back to them, but that’s not me! So stop it!”

Rook forgot what she was going to say. She felt like her heart had been punched, her throat seemed to close and her eyes itched. She didn’t know why Davrin’s words affected her like that. It wasn’t unkind, and it was true, she missed her clan every day and she wished to be back with them every day, no matter that she liked her job as a warden.

“Rook…” Davrin said softly as she got up without a word. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I shouldn’t have said something like that to you,” Davrin insisted. “I’m sorry.”

Davrin was right, though. Who was she to stop his joining? She’d been stalling and trying to prevent it, she’d been intrusive and interrogated him, when it was not her business…

“There are things to get ready for your joining,” she said flatly as she turned around. “I’m going to talk to Ser Arthur,  I’ll find you when we’re ready to start.”

“Rook,” Davrin called after her but she walked away.

*

I'd like to thank @thedissonantverses and @mythals-whore for reading and commenting on the previous chapter, it's really encouraging, thank you!

Otherwise it feels like nobody is interested or enjoys this, so writing and postings ends up feeling a bit discouraging. I know this is a canon divergence and a slow, long fic, which is not for everyone, though.

Anyway, thanks for reading, if you liked this, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

[littlepetcrow]

A personal headcanon, but I like to imagine that while carrying out particularly dangerous contracts post-DATV, a married Rook and Lucanis would ask Davrin to look after/protect their kids in the lighthouse “just in case.”

And Davrin, known affectionately as “Uncle Davrin” by the kids, would let them sleep in his bed with him if they got scared, or when the days start to stretch on and on and the kids start to worry they’ll never see their parents again. (Davrin reassures them by telling them stories of the time Rook fought an archdemon, or not one but two blighted dragons, and the time Lucanis stabbed a literal god, so it would take a lot more than some bumbling antaam to kill them.)

And maybe, sometimes, other members of the Veilguard would drop by the lighthouse just because they do, and they would help entertain and cook for the kids while they’re there, and Davrin has unique codewords and pass-phrases with everyone to make sure they’re really who they say they are and not, you know, a demon in disguise.

And always, before Rook leaves, Davrin promises he’ll take care of the kids no matter what happens, but nothing will happen, of course, because Rook will come back. They have to come back. And Lucanis is too stubborn to die. Everything will be fine.

And everything is fine, until one night, maybe a few weeks into a contract that was only supposed to take a few days, when Davrin discovers one of the kids has a letter addressed to him. And he reads it, even though he’s not supposed to. Because it’s a will, and Rook and Lucanis have left everything to Davrin, so he can take care of the kids, and he’s named their guardian in bold black letters, and after seeing that, Davrin is never the same again.

So when Rook and Lucanis finally do come back, a little worse for wear, a little bloody, a little bruised, Davrin hugs them. And that’s just how it is.

Davrin’s friendship with Rook and Lucanis just means a lot to me, okay?

[ellie-writes-games]

Lucanis Lunchboxes Entry 6: Assan's First Catch

What if Lucanis packed Rook lunchboxes with little notes in them throughout the main story?

So I have a feeling that Spite would definitely have been able to smell something off about the Gingerwort Truffles, and an earlier draft of this mentioned this as well as some reflection from Lucanis that it was too bad it wasn't potent enough to be a decent poison. But it got long so I shortened it down.

Part of an on-going series of fan-writings. See the Masterlist here.

***This is some fanfiction/fanart from an elder millennial (me) who is stuck in Thedas. These are NOT actual screenshots from the game.

[rooksspite]

i imagine that cuddling with davrin is essentially heaven

warm, strong arms to hold you, and a broad chest to lay your head on

his room is literally a perfect little nook to be in, he has a proper bed with a fireplace nearby it looks so cozy

he’d press kisses to your forehead while stroking your back. happy that you’re finally getting some rest in your endless pursuit to stop the gods

if he allows it, assan would also be a great addition to the cuddle pile

[high-dragon-bait]

I’m finally getting going in earnest in my Davrook fic and here’s my Rook trying very hard not to take the Lighthouse’s passive aggression personally

Meanwhile Davrin has just given up

[ashcashyy]

lol I’ve been pumping out so much content this past week 💀

[headachecat]

Would love to see your Rook dealing with any jealousy/insecurity about Neve and Lucanis flirting if you believe it would exist. This is my obsession. My MW Rook looks up to Neve almost as much as Bellera does and had been flirting with Lucanis and then realises they are flirting and is like. Well I've got no chance. But is also devastated.

I keep playing in my head my Rook withdrawing and giving them space to be respectful and Lucanis being entirely oblivious and confused and ways it is resolved

There was a way about Neve that made your heart flutter in your chest. For some, it was the insecurity she brought to light with her talk, as if she knew all the secrets your mind was hiding before you were even aware of them yourself. For others, it was the blush she evoked on their cheeks with a confident flirt, fully aware of all her traits and the effect they could have if used properly. But for Rook? Well, for Rook, it was the intrigue of her smart talk, her mind, and all the things she held so much knowledge about.

In the midst of the chaos that spurned around them ever since the collapse of the ritual, there were stolen moments of respite where they exchanged their favourite pieces of information — random facts, obscure history, fragments of thought that felt too precious to waste. Rook found herself captivated, caught between wanting to learn more and marvelling at Neve’s sharp wit and how it made everything feel significant. She could make a passing comment about an old text, an anecdote about an ancient discovery, or even a sharp critique of a flawed argument, and Rook would be left reeling, turning the words over in her mind long after. She could have picked Neve’s brain apart for hours. But there was always something eluding her, something hidden, untouched, unshared – a mystery that lingered just out of reach. Something Rook just couldn’t uncover. Maker knows they flirted here and there, but it all soon faded away with the arrival of newer additions to the party. The camaraderie shifted, new bonds formed, and those playful exchanges became fewer, buried beneath the weight of their shared mission. It wasn’t the first time Rook found herself pushing romance away for the greater cause, and it would probably not be the last. There was always a battle to fight, a crisis to resolve, and a part of her had come to accept that her own desires would always take a backseat to the larger picture. There would be an appropriate time for the right connection, she told herself – maybe after the Gods were dead, when the world wasn’t teetering on the edge of destruction. Such is life, and she never gave it a second thought. Until Lucanis.

It was the small things. The tiny acts of service that Rook held so close and so dear to her heart. The thoughtful notice of her favourite drink, set aside just for her. The breakfast left by her seat at the kitchen table on mornings when she barely had the energy to rise. An extended hand to help her cross a fallen bridge, steady and unwavering. He was always there, always steady and caring, with a quiet kind of affection that spoke louder than words ever could.

So, she cared in return. She cared deeply and truly, as she found herself looking for him whenever time allowed, just to see the corners of his mouth lift in a smile that softened her world. She lingered near while he cooked, not just to watch, but to lend a hand where she could and to help him clean as he worked his way through his recipes. She made sure to give back the love he so willingly poured into others, crafting small moments of her own to show him he mattered. A new edition of his favourite novel hidden under his pillow, for when he couldn’t sleep. A story told just to make him laugh, as he covered his face in amusement. And when she caught the faint glimmer in his eye – a quiet sense of ease, a glimpse of comfort that told her he felt at home with her—her heart swelled.

One afternoon, she felt herself falling for him, as she came by the pantry to collect his empty cups. He greeted her with a soft smile, the kind that warmed her more than she cared to admit, and thanked her for her help as they carried the dishes to the sink. Without a word, as if guided by instinct, Lucanis reached for a piece of bread and a jar of honey from the shelf. His hands moved deftly, spreading the honey and slicing a few pieces of fruit, placing them neatly atop the bread. It wasn’t elaborate, but it was thoughtful.

‘Here,’ he said, offering the plate to her with a gentle tilt of his head. ‘You’ve kept busy today. You should eat something.’

‘I wish I could take you home after all this,’ she joked, resting her hip against the counter with a teasing grin, as she tasted the fruit. ‘Would you consider becoming my personal chef? Although, it would pay less than your current occupation, I suppose.’

Lucanis chuckled faintly, drying his hands on a rag, but his next words came quieter, as if he was speaking more to himself than to her. ‘Letting me take care of you would be enough of a payment.’

The air shifted between them as he looked up, his gaze holding hers for a second longer than usual. His eyes scanned her face, searching – perhaps for her reaction, perhaps for reassurance, or maybe even rejection. His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say more, but uncertainty lingered in the silence, holding his next words at bay. For now. That was enough for Rook. She smiled widely, tilting her head with a lighthearted wonderment that softened the tension. There was no need to push, no need to rush. She would wait until the words became clear for him, however long it took. And in the long run, it was the words exchanged between Neve and Lucanis that Rook started to notice first. The soft tease hidden beneath the guise of casual conversation. The laughter that lilted through the air, over-the-shoulder banter exchanged as the two playfully flirted with each other during their travels. It was effortless, natural, and it tickled in a way Rook couldn’t quite name. It was something she and Lucanis had never shared. Something, perhaps, she was waiting for. 

She didn’t worry much; it wasn’t like her. It was more of a quiet, bittersweet acceptance she felt deep within her chest, because how could she fault him? She had fallen under Neve’s spell too, after all. So how could he not?

But the feeling lingered deep inside her. She longed to see him, to talk, to touch. No one had made her feel the quiet yearning, the timeless depth of affection that grew stronger with each shared moment. Rook had always loved deeply, with a steady and enduring strength, and now was no different. There was little to do but make it clear.

The party stepped through the Eluvian, the echoes of their shoes radiating around them in a cacophony of dull, resounding thuds. ‘Where. Are. Lucanis and Darin. When we. Fight. Antaam,’ Rook groaned, dragging herself to the nearest stone column and collapsing against it, her staff clattering to the floor beside her. She could feel every single bone in her body protesting, her muscles aching with exhaustion as though they might simply refuse to carry her any further.

Neve, still catching her breath, let out a soft, relieved laugh. ‘They’re probably at each other’s throats somewhere. Care for me to find them?’ she offered, brushing back a loose strand of hair from her damp forehead. Bellara, looking no less worse than her companions, heaved a sigh as she trudged to the Lighthouse entrance door and pushed it open, leaning heavily against the frame for support. ‘The only relationship I’m interested in tightening right now is the one between my head and the pillow’ she muttered. Rook winced as she straightened herself with great effort, her legs groaning under the weight of her own body. ‘I got it,’ she said, brushing herself off. ‘They are probably in the kitchen. Need to find myself a bite to eat regardless. And some bandages.’ Neve followed closely behind, her tone carrying that unmistakable smirk. ‘And some Lucanis.’

Rook paused, glancing up at her with a weary chuckle. Of course, Neve knew. She always did. There was no use in hiding anything from her – not that Rook ever had much success in trying. ‘If I’m the lucky one, huh?’ she shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully. Neve shrugged, her lips quirking into a knowing smile as she looked down at Rook, her tone light and teasing. ‘Luck is what you make it, Rook!’ she said with a wink before turning and ascending the stairs.

But the mirror claimed the opposite. Rook caught a glimpse of herself as she passed the reflection in the hallway on her way to the courtyard exit. Her hair was tangled and streaked with blood, her face bruised, and her armor scuffed and torn in places, crying out for repair. She made a mental note to drop it off with Harding before heading out again. Maker, she looked disgusting, and definitely most unlucky. The kind of worn-down, battered appearance that would make anyone else wince. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care – not after the day she’d had.

Her feet carried her further through the courtyard, her boots crunching against the gravel. The kitchen loomed ahead, a safe haven she desperately needed. She placed her hand gently against the cool steel door, ready to push it open, but paused, her ears catching the sound of voices drifting from within. She couldn’t make out the words at first, only the soft, muffled rhythm of conversation. The tone was light, familiar. It wasn’t loud enough to be an argument, nor strained enough to be serious. Something about it made her pause, her hand still resting on the door, as if some part of her wasn’t quite yet ready to step inside. 

‘Lamp oil. Everything stank of burnt tentacles for miles after.’ Davrin’s voice sounded relaxed. Amused, even? That alone peaked Rook’s curiosity. She stepped into the kitchen, her shoes making a soft scuff against the worn wooden floor as her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside.

‘Rook!’ The Warden turned towards the entrance, a bottle of wine swaying precariously in his grasp. Lucanis sat beside him, lounging comfortably, a cup nestled in his hands as though it had always belonged there. His usual cautious demeanour seemed to soften under the warm haze of the drink. Rook approached them slowly, her hands settling on her hips with a hint of playful reproach. She couldn’t stop the side smile creeping onto her lips. ‘If the two of you were going to open a bottle, you might have told me first.’

Lucanis looked up at her, meeting her gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. She could feel a comfortable warmth spilling over her heart, a gentle pull in her chest as she studied his big, brown, yet currently murky eyes. They were soft, unfocused in a way that made her smile, and for a heartbeat, it felt like she was the only one in the room.

‘It’s not a good bottle,’ Davrin’s jest broke the moment, drawing Lucanis’ attention away. The Crow blinked slowly, clearly unfazed, and gestured towards the pantry. ‘Might have to pick up a supply. I have a feeling we’ll need it.’ Rook nodded, the smile lingering on her lips as she turned on her heel, her feet dragging just slightly as she made her way to the shelves. She reached for the first bottle of wine her fingers brushed against, not even bothering to check the label. ‘Is anyone else hungry? Maybe I should cook something?’ Lucanis’ remark made her chuckle under hear breath. Even under the influence, he couldn’t help himself.

Davrin cleared his throat, shifting in his chair and getting comfortable once more. His gaze darted toward her, completely ignoring the question hanging in the air. ‘What about you, Rook? What’s the worst job you’ve ever been on?’

‘You’re familiar with how this whole thing came about, right?’ Rook’s voice was steady as she moved about the kitchen, the sounds of utensils and the clink of ceramic hurting her ears. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure her companions were both listening, then turned back to continue her search. It took a minute before she began preparing a plate. ‘Well, after today’s Antaam encounter, I’m not sure that was my worst one anymore,’ she continued, a touch of weariness creeping into her tone. It was a quiet admission, though her hands worked efficiently in preparation. It took a moment longer to finish, but she eventually gathered the plate and made her way back to the corner of the room.

‘Sometimes it’s good to put things into perspective,’ Lucanis spoke up, his voice soft but thoughtful as he swirled the cup in his hands, watching the wine spin and settle within. ‘Especially if it’s funny,’ Davrin added with a chuckle, clearly enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment. He began shifting things around on the table to make space for Rook’s plate. Rook couldn’t help but humour them, her lips curling into a small smile as she set the plate down in front of them. She chuckled along, though her voice held a playful edge. ‘So. My suffering entertains you. Got it.’ 

‘You joining us, then?’ Davrin’s gaze followed her movement with a sudden interest, his eyes flicking over her as if weighing the possibility. His thumb rested against his lips, caressing it in a barely noticeable way. Rook winked at him teasingly in response. 

‘Fine, I’ll cook something if Rook’s staying,’ Lucanis declared suddenly, getting up with surprising speed. He moved forward, standing face to face with Rook, his eyes widening as she extended a smaller plate towards him. He looked down, his brow furrowing slightly as if trying to focus. ‘It’s some cheese and olives. And bread, with olive oil. I heard that’s how you eat it in Treviso,’ she said, her voice quiet and tender. She smiled gently, the warmth in her offer softening further as she added, ‘You mentioned you were hungry.’ 

Lucanis met her eyes, as he reached out to take the plate from her hands. His touch was gentle, and Rook couldn’t help but notice the quiet, polite gratitude in his movements. Her heart began to beat faster. She kept up the eye contact, just to relish the feeling. Maker, he was simply everything.

Lucanis nodded with a whisper, ‘Please, do.’

‘Rook’s story first. Then Lucanis owes me one about this contract on a bronto,’ Davrin said, shifting in his seat, his tone playful, but insistent, drawing their attention back to him once more. Rook raised an eyebrow, and threw him the bottle of wine with a practiced toss. ‘Mierda, that bronto,’ Lucanis muttered as he sat down, dipping a piece of bread into the olive oil with great care. 

The hours passed quickly, as they so often do with drink as company, each sip loosening their tongues and sharpening their tease.The room felt warmer, more comfortable, as the trio moved about, shifting seats and sharing stories. Davrin took a chance to demonstrate the time he had to lift a log by attempting to pick up both Lucanis and Rook at the same time. He breathed out exaggerated grunting noises as he did so, struggling with effort, and the room filled with laughter, carrying their chatter out the window and drawing in curious wisps. When he finally set them back down, the world felt a bit more chaotic, and it was unclear who sat where in the jumble of limbs and shouts. In the end, Rook found herself sharing the two-seater with Lucanis, their proximity natural and expectant, as though they’d fallen into this arrangement a hundred times before.

She could feel Lucanis’ presence closer, the subtle warmth of it pressing against her as she settled into the comfort of the company. The sweetness of the wine clouded her senses, soothing the edges of her fatigue, and she needed it – the reprieve, the breathe it allowed her to take. Somewhere along the line, she’d taken off her covering, unbuckling the straps of her belt and letting the weight of it slide off her shoulders. The casual robes she wore now felt infinitely more comfortable, a sign of surrender to the simple pleasures of the evening. Lucanis observed her in silence, his eyes flickering over the discarded pieces of clothing on the floor, as if they were the most intriguing thing in the world. Resting her tired feet up on the table, she let her body sink into the chair, eyes closing for a moment as she sighed deeply, a soft longing for peace washing over her. Without thinking, she shifted slightly, her head finding its place against Lucanis’ shoulder.

Davrin stretched lazily, lifting his legs to rest them on the table as well. He carefully moved Rook’s feet aside, settling them gently on his lap so as not to disturb her. The gesture was effortless, natural, and somehow just another part of the delicate balance of their shared space, like the room itself had drawn them closer into this small, peaceful circle.

Rook’s gaze almost unconsciously traced Davrin’s chest, up to his neck, and finally to his lips. It was a brief moment, but her thoughts didn’t linger there for long. They drifted instead to Lucanis, to the buttons of his vest, the way the fabric sat perfectly tailored against waist, and how the collar teased the line of his neck. And then, perhaps it was the wine. Perhaps it was the effortless charisma that always seemed to radiate from Davrin. Perhaps it was the sensation of Lucanis’ hand resting just a little too close to her own, his fingers brushing against her knuckles softly, as though the touch became an extension of the comfort he offered. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the silence itself – the way it stretched between the three of them for just a moment too long, breaking the shackles of Rook’s heart and loosening her tongue. ‘Davrin, what does flirting mean to you?’ she asked. Lucanis lifted his head suddenly, and Rook could feel his gaze tracing the curve of her features. She pulled a strand of hair from her cheek,  giving herself a moment of focus as she tried to steady her pulse, which was now racing beneath her skin.

‘How come?’ Davrin rested his head against his hand, clearly entertained by the turn in the conversation. Rook smiled, her heart skipping a beat, feeling Lucanis’ hand twitch slightly against her own, as though her words had sparked something in him, too. ‘Well,’ she started, ‘you flirt with me, and others, ceaselessly. And since we’ve had our… talk about where we stand, you’ve got me intrigued.’ The words hung between them, half teasing, half serious, as her gaze met Davrin’s. The Warden chuckled with a low sound. He patted her shin affectionately before leaning forward, his eyes gleaming.

’I suppose there’s an element of fun that comes with it. It eases the tension. It brings people closer, instantly.’ He paused, his voice dropping slightly as if sharing something more intimate. ‘But there’s also a certain amount of freedom to it. No promises are made, and yet it brings a promise of something more, if both parties wish it. A bond is made, even if it’s just through, or for, the thrill of the chase.’

‘Something more…’ Rook repeated, her lips curling into a smirk. She turned the cup in her hand  absentmindedly, before taking a sip, feeling the warmth of the wine trickle through her as she thought about his words. 

Davrin’s eyebrow lifted for a brief moment, his gaze shifting as he observed Rook’s position with a quiet, knowing smile. He took in the loose strands of hair cascading over Lucanis’ shoulder, the way her fingers were subtly tensing under the Crow’s instinctive touch, and the way her head had leaned slightly to the side. The scene was unfolding in a way that was hard to ignore.

With a slight shift, Davrin’s hand fell to Rook’s leg with a quiet slap, the motion deliberate but light, as though making a point. ‘I’m not the only one here with a talent,’ he remarked, his voice laced with amusement. His eyes sparkled with a teasing glint. ‘The Crow over there has some interested parties swooning over his tactics.’

Rook corrected herself, sitting up straighter to face Lucanis, who’s eyes widened slightly at the mention. ‘That’s a good way of putting it. Tactics,’ Lucanis said, his voice tinted with hesitation. The Crow let out a short laugh, his hand running up the back of his neck as though trying to smooth over the unease that had settled in.

Rook turned toward him, bending one leg beneath her thigh to face him more directly. There was a small, quiet hesitation before she placed her hand gently on his shoulder, offering him a soft gesture of reassurance. Lucanis closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in her touch, as if savouring the connection. ‘I’m not very… practiced,’ he confessed. ‘All I know about flirting is what the Crows taught me. And perhaps a few serials.’

Rook exchanged quick glances with Davrin, who looked just as intrigued. She leaned in closer, her voice teasing but filled with curiosity as she spoke, ‘Yeah, I’m going to need some details on that.’ The Crow looked up at her, his expression still a bit embarrassed, but also a little resigned to the conversation now.

Davrin took the opportunity to pick up the wine bottle with an exaggerated flourish, and took a few slow sips, his eyes never leaving Lucanis. ‘Flirting is an effective way to gain information. To blend in. To gain someone’s trust. Everything a Crow needs on a job. Naturally, the art of romance is one of the chapters taught to us. I’m no exception.’ Lucanis muttered, drinking from his cup, trying to deflect. Rook shook her head, tilting it in a drunken haze. ‘So it means nothing to you?’

‘I know the talk. I am rather inexperienced in the play itself,’ Lucanis looked at her, as he put his cup down on the table. ‘It’s complicated. There are moments when I catch myself in the act, as if it was an instinct. Years of training will do that to you. My mouth speaks before my mind thinks and I often find myself surprised by my own actions.’

A beat. ‘But the real thing… A real display of one’s affection…’ He held Rook’s gaze. ‘I believe I’m still figuring it out.’

Davrin slapped his thighs, before getting up with vigour,  ‘Right. So the Crow flirts by accident is what I’m hearing.’

Rook blinked, her eyes searching Lucanis’ for a moment. There was a level of peace in his expression, usually overshadowed by the daily struggles they went through. A steady calm in-between the passing storms, unbothered and certain, like never before. Rook could hear Davrin’s footsteps against the stone floor, and a creak of the door. A pretend yawn, before a certain goodnight. She couldn’t be more thankful for his tact in that moment. 

‘Have you done it with me?’ She lowered her tone, as if sharing a secret just between Lucanis and her. The Crow matched the slowly blooming intimacy, his hand running up to his neck again. A chuckle left his throat, echoing against the empty walls of the kitchen. 

‘I think you would know if I had. The Antivan approach can be unmistakably direct,’ he kept up Rook’s gaze like never before. There was nothing except for the two of them anymore. Nothing, but the words shared, no energy wasted.

‘No, I mean the real thing,’ Rook moved closer. She studied Lucanis’ face for any trace of hesitation, anything that could suggest he wished for her to pull back. She was met with a kind smile, as his eyes traced away with his thoughts. 

’Rook… I’m not sure I–‘

‘I wouldn’t mind it.’ His eyes returned to her face, dark and gleaming in the candlelight. Rook could feel herself smirk ever so slightly. ‘In case you’ve ever wondered. Or considered. Me.’ Lucanis’ brow furrowed just a little bit, as he looked down to notice her hand on his own. Rook breathed out, a tinge of nervousness creeping into her mind. How long has she been holding his hand? ‘I care for you, Lucanis. I thought you might… want to know. Forgive me,’ she added, letting go. But then, she froze for just a moment. Her breath caught, and hesitation washed over her, as if the moment had suddenly grown too large to hold. She reached up, her fingers touching Lucanis' chest. Beneath her fingertips, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, each thump clear and reassuring. She observed how the material of his vest bent subtly under her touch, as though it, too, was yielding to her presence, allowing her to close the distance between them.

Lucanis took a slow breath, then another, his chest rising and falling beneath her hand, his eyes half-lidded as he watched her. Rook smiled widely at the simple, intimate sensation. She felt an unexpected flutter in her stomach but before she could let the silence settle too deeply, she felt his hand rise, gentle and certain.

His fingers cupped her palm, holding it lightly just above his heart. Lucanis’ lips parted, as if he was on the verge of saying something. Yet, Rook wasn't certain she could bear the weight of whatever words he was about to offer – perhaps it was too soon, or perhaps it was too much to be said aloud.

Unable to hold his gaze any longer, she closed her eyes, taking a breath to steady herself, and slowly, she let go of his grasp. She rose to her feet, but to her surprise, his hand followed her, his fingers wrapping around her knuckles with his usual tenderness. As he stood up with her, there was no rush, no urgency. ‘I care for you, Rook,’ he said softly. ’Thank you for… this.’ 

She chuckled quietly, squeezing his hand once more before letting go.

‘My pleasure,’ she whispered back, her voice soft and carrying a quiet weight. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, but it shifted, pulled toward the door. With careful steps, she made her way toward the exit, her footsteps muted on the floor, as if the world around her had momentarily paused. As she reached the threshold, she stopped, her fingers brushing against the doorframe, and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes finding Lucanis once again.

He was smiling.

And that was always more than enough.

[thatgaymerguyb]

I wrote this fanfic because I couldn't get it out of my head! Reblogs appreciated.

After the events of Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Kalen "Rook" Thorne and Davrin, are living the lives of two Wardens in a world where there are no Archdemons to worry about. They've been spending time clearing out the blight around Tevinter. In the middle of a break, word comes from Evka and Antoine that the blight around Tearstone Island has weakened. Seeking closure, they head out to find the remains of Lace Harding.

[the-hopefull-pessimist]

Rook,

I'm writing this just in case I don't make it at Tearstone. I know I promised I wouldn't think about it, but this isn't one of those things I can just ignore and hope doesn't happen.

Ever since joining this team and getting to know you, I've learned just how much more there is to life. You are so much more than I ever thought to look for, you give me a purpose I never could have dreamed of, and you fill my days with a brightness only rivaled by the sun.

You are my purpose, Rook.

You, and Assan, and all the adventures to be had once this is done. Whether the adventure is on some far off journey or in our own backyard, as long as I'm by your side, I'll happily follow where you lead.

I...I love you, Rook. In all the crazy, impossible, unimaginable ways...I love you.

Your tenacity, bravery, optimism, even your bad puns...I love it all. All the parts of you that only I see, the parts of you everyone sees, and the parts of you that you think no one sees.

You are, without a doubt, the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. The greatest gift I could ever hope for. The greatest blessing I could receive. You are my shelter, my partner, my heart.

When this is done, let's build a home in Arlathan. We can settle down or come and go, but build a home - a life - with me... somewhere we can escape to together.

I'm fighting for that future we talked about. It's going to push me to fight like hell... because I'll be damned if anything keeps me from a life with you.

Ar lath ma vhenan,

-Davrin

(An imaginary letter that would spawn in Davrin's room as a codex entry after being freed from the Fade prison, whether he died on Tearstone or not)

[bg3daydream]

Not like the tales (Davrin x Rook Fanfiction) Chapter 1

Davrin x female Rook Thorne

Summary: Canon divergence, Rook is already a grey warden when Davrin joins, and she's put in charge of his joining and his first weeks as a recruit and junior warden. Their relationship developes into more than just partner wardens, despite Rook's best efforts, since she knows that the life of a warden is a life of loss. Rook is a Dalish mage (I made a poll and that's the option that won).

Tags: Romance, friends to lovers, hiden feelings, slow burn, fluff, angst, hurt/emotional hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence and blood, eventual smut, canon divergence, eventual happy ending.

Chapter 2 Masterlist of my fics / AO3

Chapter 1: This is a long one, setting the story, introducing Rook, and meeting young Davrin for the first time.

CHAPTER 1

Several years before the events in Veilguard…

The ground was littered with the corpses of her clan, her family, and with corpses of some of the darkspawn that had killed them. She was lying in a puddle of her mother’s blood, who’d died sword in hand, trying to protect her, and Rook didn’t think she could move. Everything hurt and she didn’t have the strength or the will. Everyone was dead, and she just wished to join them.

She had tried to fight. She’d always been proud of her magic, trained to control it and fight with it, and yet, when she’d been needed, it had been worth nothing. 

Her vallaslin was almost fresh on her face, she had gotten it around one year ago, her pass into adulthood, and during the ceremony, the keeper had been complimenting her and her use of magic, saying she’d do good for their clan. She had not.

She had killed some darkspawn but it hadn’t been enough, and soon she’d found herself overwhelmed by them. Now all her clan was dead, not only the fighters and the hunters, but everyone else too. Nobody saw the darkspawn coming.

There were still monsters left, if Rook didn’t die due to her injuries, then the remaining darkspawn would kill her. She didn’t care. She didn’t expect Falon’Din to come to guide her to whatever awaited beyond the Fade, but part of her couldn’t help but hope that there was indeed someplace beyond the Fade where her clan was waiting for her.

Her eyes had closed but she opened them again when she heard fighting. There was a group of people fighting the darkspawn, who, just like the monsters, seemed to have come out of nowhere. Were those grey wardens? They were too late.

Two of them were running towards her, and Rook tried to focus her gaze on them, but the world was spinning and slipping away. Her eyes closed once more.

“She’s alive!” A voice with an orlesian accent said.

“Not for long!”

Rook forced her eyes open. An elf and a dwarf were knelt next to her, checking her injuries, and dressed in grey warden attire. Too late, she thought again.

“Is she blighted?” The dwarf asked.

“I’m not sure, I think she might.” The elf had no vallaslin. Not a Dalish. Rook’s eyes closed again.

“If she’s not, the injuries can kill her anyway,” the dwarf said before she began shaking her. It hurt but it made Rook open her eyes again. “Hey, hey, don’t. Listen to me, this is not over.”

“I’ll get the healer!” The elf nodded. “She’s good, she’ll fix you, yes? Just hold on.”

“And if she’s blighted?”

“...she could join.” 

The couple shared a look but they nodded. Rook forced her eyes to stay open. What was going on? Join? Were they trying to heal her? She was past gone, she could feel it, and she didn’t care, she wanted to join her people, who she loved and who she had failed.

She tried to speak but coughed up blood instead. “Don’t bother,” she finally managed, in a choked whisper, before closing her eyes again.

“Evka?” The elf asked softly

A hand grabbed her chin firmly and when Rook opened her eyes, she saw it was the dwarf. “You can give up and die,” she began. “Or you can live, join us, and fight darkspawn like these, and stop something like this from happening to anyone else.”

Rook tried to look around, at the corpses of her clan and the darkspawn, but she felt her eyes close again. She wanted to die... but she also wanted to kill all the darkspawn that had done this to her family, all the darkspawn in the world.

“Evka!” The elf’s voice sounded more urgent now. “The healer!”

“Okay,” Rook whispered. “I’ll kill all the darkspawn.”

Those were her last words before she fainted.

A few years later…

Rook scanned the horizon from the tallest tower of the outpost. It was shorter than the Weisshaupt towers by far, but it was still the tallest in the building. She could usually be found there, under the premise of taking watch and being on the lookout for potential darkspawn. 

It was half an excuse, she did take watch, but that tower was her favorite spot in the place and so she always made excuses to be there. She liked to watch everything from above, to look at the woods and see if she could spot any animal, at the sky and see the birds flying above, at the mountains far away...

She doubted there was any need for taking watch there. That outpost was known for how uneventful it was. It’d once been important, situated near a place where the ground had sunk, creating an entrance to the deep roads, and darkspawn came out of it more often than not.

It seemed to have been inactive for years now, and the outpost had become almost a forgotten place. Sometimes, older wardens near their calling, aching and sore, were sent there for a while to rest their overworked bodies after years of serving. Most of them refused, though.

At times, some new recruits or younger junior wardens who hadn’t seen many fights prior joining, were sent there on their first missions outside the fortresses. Few were granted that favor, though, pretty much only if they were noble-born and their parents were pestering wardens after the joining. Most times, new wardens were just thrown to fight darkspawn in their first days there already.

So, the outpost was an uneventful, almost empty place, currently occupied by a mix of older wardens, nearing their calling, and a couple of new recruits.  One was Alan, the bastard son of some nobleman Rook didn’t know, and the other was Marcus, the younger son of a noble family, who’d decided to join the wardens despite the grief it had caused to his family.  

Rook thought young Marcus would be better off with his family, doing whatever noble-born people did, but he was idealistic and had grown up hearing tales about the wardens and wanting to be one. Now, he wouldn't reach his fifty birthday before the taint claimed him, if he made it that long before dying on a mission. Rook thought they should add more realism to those warden tales people were feeding to their kids.

There’d been another recruit with them when they joined, Rook knew, but she’d died at the joining. The young recruits didn’t talk about it and Rook understood it.

Rook was not a new recruit or a junior warden, she’d been a warden for years now, neither was she near her calling, but she knew why she was sent there. 

She’d pissed off the First Warden, disagreeing with his strategy, and so he’d sent her to the most uneventful outpost he could think of. It might sound like warden holidays, but she hated it. All she wanted was to help people against darkspawn, and kill as many of the darkspawn as she could. To her eyes, that was all her life was worth now. The First Warden knew and so he’d sent her away to a place with no fighting. Damn him.

She’d been there for a couple of weeks now, and she didn’t know when she’d be called back to Weisshaupt or sent on a mission again.

Jokes on the First Warden, she’d managed to find darkspawn anyway. She’d been prodding at what was supposed to have been the entrance to the deep roads, making a fuss, until a rather small group of confused darkspawn had come out of it. After that, she went there almost daily, though not every day she managed to attract darkspawn.

She’d reported back to Weisshaupt about it and they’d said they’d look into it and possibly try to close the entrance, but a couple of weeks had come and gone, and nobody had showed up yet.

Rook’s quiet morning looking at the horizon was interrupted when she noticed something approaching the outpost. She quickly discarded the threat of darkspawn and as they approached, she realized it was a group of grey wardens, led by the First Warden.

Rook groaned aloud. She really did not want to see the First Warden. What was he doing there anyway? Perhaps they came to check the entrance of the deep roads, finally? Or maybe to tell her she had to go back to Weisshaupt or out on a mission? She doubted that the First Warden would go himself for any of that.

Rook climbed down the watchtower and quickly went looking for Ser Arthur, a veteran grey warden who was in charge of the outpost due to his rank. He’d been in his forties when he joined the wardens, and now, almost three decades later, he was close to his calling. 

At first glance, you might think there was no warrior left in him, but Rook had seen him disarm junior wardens in training in a heartbeat. He reminded her of the keeper of her clan, and so she’d tried to be helpful to him, which perhaps explained why he seemed fond of her.

“Ser,” Rook saluted when she found him. “The First Warden is approaching, leading a group.”

Ser Arthur nodded. “We got word.” He pointed at a piece of parchment that the ravens seemed to have brought not long ago. “He was out investigating a claim of darkspawn in a village south of here,” he explained. “They’re going to resupply here and keep going to Weisshaupt.” It’d be around a week on horseback to get there.

“The First Warden was investigating a claim of darkspawn himself?” Rook arched an eyebrow. He usually just sent wardens, he wouldn’t bother himself unless it was something he considered important enough.

“Those lands belong to a nobleman who I believe has ties to the First Warden,” Ser Arthur commented.

“Oh, that explains it, he went himself because-”

“Warden Rook, do not be disrespectful to your superiors,” Ser Arthur stopped her words with a gleam of humor in his eyes. There was no love lost between him and the First Warden, though he’d never said why, no matter how much Rook tried to gossip. “Especially in front of the First Warden, unless you want to stay here until you’re my age.”

“Won’t be so bad, the parties here are way better than at Weisshaupt,” Rook joked, she didn’t think there had ever been a party in this outpost. Not a Weisshaupt either, but wardens there were not shy about celebrating victories, no matter how small, which usually involved drinking and stupid games.

Ser Arthur chuckled fondly. He left her there to tend the ravens while he went to greet the First Warden.

*

The First Warden and his group left faster than Rook’d thought they would. They barely rested, only resupplied, and she didn’t get to talk to any of them, she was not invited. Unsurprisingly.

“That was fast,” Rook said to Ser Arthur as she walked into his office after being called.

Ser Arthur nodded. “They didn’t want to lose daylight hours here.”

He didn’t say anything else, just looked at her, and Rook fidgeted. Why had he called her? “Did he say something about the deep roads entrance?” She asked. “Or…about me at all?”

Ser Arthur shook his head. “I’m sorry, Rook, he didn’t say anything, it seems you’ll stay here for a bit longer.”

“Alright,” she sighed.

“He did entrust us something,” Ser Arthur said. “I’m delegating on you for this.” Rook arched an eyebrow, waiting for the older warden to keep going. 

“They didn’t find darkspawn but an ogre, whether you consider that a class of darkspawn or not.” Believe it or not, Rook had read a transcription of a debate about terminology between wardens which had led to a fistfight and no resolution. “And it seems a monster hunter had decided to help too, the wardens found him tracking the ogre and he helped them put it down.”

“Alright…” Why was he telling her all that, and why was someone reckless enough to try to fight an ogre on their own.

“He asked to join the wardens and they took him with them, but he’s gotten a bit beaten in the fight…nothing worse from wear, considering he fought an ogre,” Ser Arthur explained. “So the First Warden left him at our infirmary and asked us to join him and start his training here.”

Rook couldn’t help her wary frown and the purse of her lips. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing another joining, which might kill that man, whoever he was. Did he even know what he was asking for, wanting to join the wardens? Most people didn’t.

“I want you to take charge of him, help him get ready for the joining, show him the ropes during his first days, all that,” Ser Arthur finished. It felt like a blow.

“Why me?” Rook had nothing against the new recruit, but she didn’t like the idea of leading someone to their potential death, of having someone entrusted to her dying under her charge while she could do nothing. One way or another, joining the wardens was a death sentence.

“I thought he might be better off with you than with any of us veterans, you’re probably closer to his age, and I can’t ask the junior wardens, they’ve been wardens for not even two weeks,” Ser Arthur explained calmly. "And I trust you'll be good at it, he'll be lucky to be under your charge instead of someone's else."

"Stop with the flattery." She knew it wasn't flattery, Ser Arthur wouldn't say it if he didn't think it, and she was grateful the veteran warden thought so highly of her, but she still hated what he wanted her to do. “Is this an order?"

“Does it have to be?” Ser Arthur arched an eyebrow.

“No.” Rook sighed. “Alright, is he in the infirmary?” Ser Arthur nodded. “I’m going to talk to him, we shouldn’t be letting people join without a background check, who knows who this guy is.” Which meant, she’d try to see how convinced he was of wanting to be a warden and if he could be scared away.

She heard Ser Arthur’s chuckle as she walked out. “You’re right, it’s not like we grey wardens take runaways, thieves, or murderers into our ranks, do we…”

*

As Rook approached the infirmary, she heard a voice asking questions about the wardens and the joining, while the voice of Laura, the healer, deflected and stopped the questions, kind but firm. Laura had been a healer for the wardens for twenty years and she’d been at this outpost for almost six months. She was a good healer and a kind person, but she didn’t put up with nonsense from the fighters.

“The warden in charge of your joining will explain everything,” Laura was saying. “Now let me finish.”

“Thank you but there’s no need for all this fuss."

“You fought an ogre by yourself until the wardens arrived, you’re lucky to be alive.”

“I’m a monster hunter, it wasn’t my first fight. It was my first ogre, though. I’ll be better next time.”

Through the ajar door, Rook looked at the man who was sitting on a stool while Laura worked her magic.

He was young, maybe around her age when she joined the wardens. He was Dalish, the vallaslin on his face a different design than the ones from Rook’s clan, but she thought it could be Gilhalnain’s symbol. The ink was striking black, it looked like he hadn’t gotten the vallaslin longer than a year ago, which reinforced Rook’s idea of him as a young Dalish.

Perhaps it was the, still there, Dalish in her, but Rook’s first thought was that an elf that age should be with his clan. Perhaps they’d died, like hers? Perhaps then he thought he could do nothing but join the wardens. But there were other clans that'd take him, for sure.

He was big for an elf, with wide shoulders and strong arms, but Rook thought he could do with a couple more meals in him…was she suddenly turning into a Dalish mother hen, or what?

He wore not proper armor but a mismatch of leather and linen, with barely any metal protections and no chainmail or anything like that. Not how she’d imagined a monster hunter to dress.

Despite the lack of proper protections, he didn’t seem to have been too hurt in his fight with the ogre. The skin of his face showed a few irritated spots where Laura’s magic had healed wounds, nothing major though, a few bruises, and a bandage around his wrist. She’d seen trained wardens end much worse in a fight with an ogre. She shouldn’t underestimate this monster hunter, even if he looked young.

The man noticed her staring. Warm, black eyes looked at her, and as the corner of his mouth lifted into half a smirk, Rook decided that he was too handsome for his own good.

“Hey,” he greeted her, looking at her in a way that made Rook think he was studying her as if she were a monster to hunt. She couldn’t blame him, trained wardens could be a dangerous enemy, and a warrior shouldn’t let their guard down.

“Hello.” She walked into the infirmary. “I am Warden Rook Thorne. You’ll be under my charge, at least for now.”

Laura arched an eyebrow as she fought a smile, and Rook tried not to roll her eyes. The healer had probably never heard her sound so formal, and she usually went just by Rook, but she didn’t want to sound too nice and friendly, she wanted this young monster hunter to rethink his idea of joining the wardens. She didn’t want to see him dying in his joining, or to condemn him to dying before he was even fifty, due to the taint in his veins.

“Well, Warden Thorne, I’m Davrin.” He didn’t seem intimidated or put off by her formal warden front. He was still smirking as he looked at her intently “Do I join now? They said there was a ritual. I’m ready.”

No, you are not, Rook wanted to yell at him, but she didn’t.

“No. We must not rush,” she said instead, still trying to appear formal. “There’s things we have to talk about first, we can do it while I show you the outpost. If he’s healed?” Rook looked at Laura, who nodded.

“Alright,” Davrin got up from the chair where he’d been sitting while Laura tended to him. "Thank you." He gave the healer a charming grin before heading towards Rook.

“Don’t get the boy in trouble before he even joins,” Laura said as they walked out of the infirmary.

Rook rolled her eyes and Davrin didn’t say anything but his smirk grew as he glanced at her through the corner of his eye. She decided not to comment on it.

Rook decided to head to the most boring corridors of the outpost, the ones that were empty but for some old warden’s armory and weapons, as in a half-assed attempt to showcase them. If someone perhaps decided to join the wardens looking for excitement and glory, this uneventful, pretty much empty outpost was the best to change their mind.

“So, now’s when you interview me? See if I’m good enough to become a warden?” Davrin asked at her silence. He sounded lighthearted but Rook wondered if it was a real concern of him, if he thought they might send him away.

“Wardens take in everyone, no matter who they are or if they can fight or not, everyone gets trained.” They either learned to fight or got killed by darkspawn.

“Oh.”

“What, you thought the wardens recruited you because you impressed them or something?” Rook hated to be mean like that to him, but she wanted him to reconsider his desire of joining.

Davrin seemed unfazed by her choice of words, and he gave her a cocky smirk. “I know I impressed them.”

He was sure of himself but he had reasons for it, and Rook was sure he’d impressed the wardens while fighting the ogre. If they hadn’t asked him to join, it was because he’d asked first.

“Prideful wardens live shorter,” she said coldly. 

“I’m not prideful, but I know I can be a good warden.” Davrin shrugged. “They told me about the warden’s history and mission on the way here, you said wardens take in anyone, I want to join, so why are we speaking instead.” His smirk was gone as he looked at her up and down. “You don’t want me here."

Rook shouldn’t care what he thought, yet it stung that he thought she had something against him, and she felt mean knowing she was making him feel rejected and not good enough, even if she thought it was for the best.

“It’s not…I…” Rook sighed, unsure of how to proceed, her formal mask slipping. “I’m in charge of your joining and I want to know you better before that, recruit.” She tried to go back to cold and firm even if she hated it. “You’re Dalish-”

“And?” Davrin stopped her before she could keep going. “There are Dalish wardens! You’re Dalish too!”

So he thought she was implying she didn’t want him as a warden because he was Dalish. Rook couldn’t blame him for turning so defensive, though, with the kind of prejudice Dalish and elves in general faced in their lives.

“I’m not saying what you think,” she told him. “You didn’t let me finish.” Davrin was still looking at her warily. “You’re Dalish and you are young, so, as a Dalish myself, I wanted to ask, why are you not with your clan?”

“You are not with yours either, you’re a warden.” He was still defensive even if his shoulders had relaxed, not that Rook blamed him. A young Dalish alone and away from his clan probably hadn’t had it easy and had faced enough prejudice already.

“My clan is dead,” she decided to be blunt and honest. It was not a secret. “Killed by darkspawn. I survived and joined the wardens for vengeance.” That was it, no bigger motives, no honor, no knight in shining armor in her.

“Oh…shit…” Davrin glanced away from her. “I’m sorry.” He was looking at her again, his eyes warm and comforting, his voice soft and genuine. Rook had hardened her heart to what had happened, a few years had passed, yet she suddenly felt like crying. She wouldn’t, though.

“Thanks.”

“My clan’s fine. Well, they were when I left, I hope they still are.” He frowned, thoughtful.

So, he’d left his clan but he still cared for them. Curious. He probably wasn’t the first, but Rook had never heard of a Dalish who left their clan, unless they were kicked out for a crime.

“So you left your clan,” Rook said and Davrin nodded. She wondered for how long he’d been on his own. “Why?” Perhaps she was being intrusive, and no recruit had to go through this questioning, but she was genuinely curious.

Davrin shrugged, looking away. “Dalish life was not for me. I wanted to see the world, I wanted to do something else than wander the forest, always with the clan and nothing else, always talking only about what we lost and the past, I wanted to make my own future, my own name.”

“You won’t have a future with the wardens.” Rook wasn’t sure if she meant to say that, so bluntly, but she did. 

She did like the fight against the darkspawn and helping people, but she didn’t kid herself, a warden’s life was not light and honor like tales might say, but death and horror, and she didn’t wish that on most people.

“Well, that’s ominous.” Davrin chuckled, but her words seemed to have unsettled him even if he tried to hide it.

“Most of us don’t live long lives. We can’t think of a future,” she elaborated.

“It might not be a long life but it’ll be one worth living,” Davrin said firmly. “Killing monsters, fighting the darkspawn, helping people, keeping them safe. That’s worthy.”

His heart was in the right place, Rook would give him that, but it just made the thought of him getting killed or dying in the joining worse. How many people like that, young, idealistic, out to be the shield against darkspawn, had died out there? She didn't want someone like that dying on her, someone she was supposed to be responsible for...

But, perhaps if there'd been more people like him, then her clan would have been saved...that didn't mean she wanted him to die protecting others, but...perhaps if he'd been the one with her clan, instead of her, they'd still be alive, while she'd failed...

“Also, killing monsters is not paying as much as I thought and I’m broke, but I heard there are free beds and meals if you join?” Davrin said, taking her out of her gloomy thoughts, his tone lighthearted. “I’m joking…well, I’m broke, but it’s not that. I like to hunt monsters and I know I can be good at killing darkspawn.”

“I’m not saying you can’t…” Rook sighed. “I just want you to know what you are getting yourself into, I want you to be sure. Your life will be death and darkness. It won’t be a long one. It’s not like the tales.”

“My life is death and darkness already. I kill monsters. Any could kill me at any moment.” Davrin was serious now. “But monsters need killing, people are safer when I do. So I want to join, and I want to keep doing my job, and kill darkspawn too.”

He wouldn’t be scared off, Rook could see that. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t still try to change his mind any other way. But she didn’t want to keep arguing now, it felt like Davrin was winning, and she couldn’t just stop him from joining, it was not her choice.

“I see..” She sighed.

“So…are we doing that ritual? The joining?” Davrin looked at her, serious and determined.

“We’re not rushing that, it's something serious, there are things to get ready…and I haven’t even finished showing you this place.” She could stall the joining for a bit longer. She was in no rush to see Davrin suffering as the taint took hold of him, and perhaps killed him. “Come on.”

Davrin stopped in front of her, giving her that smirk that was equal parts charming and cocky. "Show me the training grounds and I'll show you that I'll be good at killing darkspawn."

"Davrin...recruit," Rook corrected herself, "you have nothing to prove, there's no need."

"I'm gonna do it anyway."

*

N/A

I'm so excited for this story that I can't stop writing! But I'm also a bit nervous posting it, since I don't know if you all reading it will enjoy it, or what will you think of my vision of young Davrin, and of this Rook that I'm so fond of.

I can't wait to post more of this, but, if you want to read more, I'd love if you left me a comment, it's always very encouraging when writing a multichaptered fic to see interest and engagement, and I love talking about fic and characters, seriously, it makes my day, and it always feel so inspiring.

I think I'll have next chapter ready in a week or two, probably one since I'm obsesed with this and writing all the time, but I'm a slow writer and I tend to write long chapters.

Anyway, thanks for reading, if you liked this, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

[littlepetcrow]

So, for the Davrin romancers:

I just replayed the Weisshaupt mission, and I think it’s safe to assume this is the first time a non-Warden Rook learns that when a Warden kills an archdemon, they die in the process. (I always take Lucanis on this mission with me, and when he finds out, he’s genuinely shocked. So surely this isn’t common knowledge.)

But, if so, the implications of everything that comes after are so heavy.

Like, when Davrin asks Rook to “Give Assan a hug for me,” when you SEE how glassy his eyes are, that must hit home for them. Rook literally says “Davrin—” a second before and touches his arm like they want to stop him. Rook knows Davrin is volunteering to die.

AND THEN, when the First Warden interrupts, Rook must have felt a surge of relief. Pure. Selfish. Relief. Because now Davrin doesn’t have to die, right?

Only for that attempt to fail, and when they bring down the archdemon again, they look at each other for a second before Rook tells Davrin to kill it. And he does. But I’ve always wondered, why doesn’t Rook say anything this time? Like “I’m sorry” or “Thank you” or “I’ll take care of Assan”? Rook knows Davrin will die doing this.

But he doesn’t, obviously.

(AND THEN, in the aftermath, when Rook talks to Solas, you can choose the dialogue option to say you would never order one of your companions to do something that would get them killed. You would never make that call. Except you just did.)

SO. Tell me. Where is the fanfiction about Rook going to check on Davrin afterwards and apologizing for giving the order? Where is the 50k hurt/comfort fic that has Davrin yelling about how he was supposed to die, how being a Warden with an expiration date gave him purpose, pushed him, but then Rook is the one breaking down and yelling back that actually, they’re glad Davrin lived, and yeah that’s probably so selfish of them but it has been eating them alive knowing they let him do it? Let him sacrifice himself? Even if it didn’t work? And that shuts Davrin right up because oh shit, Rook is crying now, Rook’s voice is breaking, Rook is devastated at the thought of him dying. And maybe that gives him something else to live for now. Making sure Rook never looks so sad ever again.

Just…food for thought.

[ariannaserissa]

Rook gets rescued from the regret prison? 👀

Thank you for the ask! This is a missing scene from towards the end of Veilguard.

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING - This story covers some of the biggest spoilers in Veilguard's finale, so don't read it unless you've already played the whole game.

From the WIP Ask Game here!

----------

The world flashed white when Rook’s companions pulled her out of the regret prison. Hands grabbed at her arms and shoulders. A cacophony of voices overlapped so much that she couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.

But all that mattered was that she ended up in Davrin’s strong arms. She tucked her head underneath his and burrowed her face in his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, the sound of his voice rumbling in his chest, “and I don’t think I’m ever going to let you go again.”

“You finally caught me,” she said, meaning it to be joke, but it came out as a tearful whisper. There were tears running down her cheeks – from saying goodbye, finally and truly, to Varric, from her fear that she would be stuck in Solas’ trap for eternity, and from relief that the people she loved had gotten her out.

She tilted her head up and met Davrin’s lips with her own, wrapping her arms around his neck. His lips were the softest thing about him. He kissed away her tears, then her closed eyes, then one corner of her mouth and the other until she couldn’t help but laugh.

When they showed no signs of stopping, Taash made a disgusted noise. “Ugh, get a room already!”

Davrin stopped long enough to say, “We’re in a room right now. Maybe the rest of you should leave.” He pressed his forehead against hers.

Rook shook her head at him, amused, and finally looked around at the others. Bellara was crying, too, and there were tears in Emmrich’s eyes. Lucanis looked even more exhausted than usual, but there was relief on his face as well. Taash was standing with their arms crossed, but they were unable to keep a small smile off of their face even though they were pretending to be offended by Rook’s and Davrin’s displays of affection.

But it was another blow to her heart when she looked for the rest of their team and made the sharp realization they were both gone, perhaps forever. Neve had been captured by Elgar’nan when the Tevinter mage had tried to unbind the blood magic keeping them from moving forward. And Harding…

Rook swallowed hard, remembering how the dwarf had been stabbed multiple times by Ghilan’nain. Rook had lost sight of Harding when she fell into some type of crevice. Was there any chance that her Stone sense had protected her? Had she been alive when she fell?

“Is Harding – ” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Davrin’s arms tightened around her. Taash’s face fell and they looked down. Bellara covered her mouth with her hands as fresh tears gathered in her eyes. Emmrich shook his head sadly, and Lucanis clenched his hands into fists.

“She’s gone,” Davrin said. “Elgar’nan summoned this huge pillar of fire after Ghilan’nain died and you disappeared. The rest of us barely got out of there. We don’t know where Neve is, either, or if she’s still alive.”

Rook closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Taash, Lucanis.”

Neither of them responded. After a moment, Rook untangled herself from Davrin’s embrace and stood up. He got to his feet alongside her, but didn’t let her go entirely, keeping a tight grip on one hand. She appreciated the contact – it made her feel grounded and convinced her that this was real, not some twisted dream conjured by the regret prison to torment her.

Her time spent trapped by Solas was as hazy as a dream. She could not remember moving around the space but it felt like she had. Statues of Neve and Harding suddenly appeared before her, reminding her of her faults with sharp words.

Only the memory of Varric’s death had been clear. It was as if learning the truth after spending so long being deceived had lifted a fog from her mind.

They were in the room at the top of the Lighthouse, the space the Caretaker had called the Wolf’s Den when they had shown it to her. Rook guessed that her companions had needed a clear space to open the rift into the Fade and pull her out. She had observed the mages in the Veil Jumpers cast spells enough to get an idea of how complicated such an undertaking would be.

“What do we know?” she asked. “Where is Elgar’nan now?”

Emmrich answered her. “After we killed Ghilan’nain on Tearstone Island, Elgar’nan went to Minrathous. He claimed control of the city easily because the Venatori already had a hold there after their coup. We’ve had reports that Solas is there as well, and helping fight against Elgar’nan’s forces. But things are at a bit of a stalemate at the moment. We have time to rest before we need to join the resistance there.”

“No, we can’t wait. We have to get there now.”

“Rook,” Bellara began, then stopped, biting her lip. “Please. We need to rest. You need to rest. You’ve been gone for weeks.”

Rook went still. “Weeks?” She looked at Davrin, whose eyes were shadowed. “It felt like moments to me. Hours, at the most.”

“Time fluctuates wildly in the Fade,” Emmrich said. “It is not possible to predict its pattern. It might pass as it did for you, weeks going by in less than a day, or it might do the opposite, stretching the time for those within when in reality much less than they thought has gone by. Here at the Lighthouse and in the Crossroads, it is more reliable. My hypothesis is that Solas or another ancient mage from his time stabilized these places temporally when they were first created.”

Rook barely listened to Emmrich, still reeling from learning how much time she had lost. She leaned against Davrin, a steady bulwark by her side. He let go of her hand so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. She was grateful for the strength he gave her.

“That’s all the more reason to get moving,” she said. “Elgar’nan’s already wreaking havoc. How much more damage can he do while we waste even more time here?”

“Rook, listen to us,” Davrin said. “We’ve been working nonstop trying to find you and getting everything else in order. We need time to recover and prepare. Now that you’re back, we’ll reach out to our allies and have their leaders come here to make a plan of attack. We have to wait for them to get here and gather their own people. There’s no point in rushing off before we’re all ready.”

Rook sighed and relented. With each moment that passed, she felt fatigue weighing on her more and more heavily. That was another sign that she’d been gone for longer than it had felt. She had been conscious in some form for weeks and that was catching up to her now.

She also took a moment to look closely at the others. All of the them looked exhausted and drained. There were dark circles under Emmrich’s eyes. Bellara’s hair was messier than Rook had ever seen it and she didn’t seem to care. It would not surprise her if all of them had gotten almost as little rest as she had while they’d worked tirelessly to rescue her. That convinced her more than her own exhaustion.

“Fine. We’ll rest up so that we’re ready. We’ve taken down one god already. We have one more to go. And the next time we face him, he won’t survive the encounter.”

[rooksspite]

Late at night, in a small cabin in Arlathan forest. An elf holds a swaddled baby in his arms. Swaying from side to side as he tries to guide the baby back to sleep.

A quiet melody leaves his lips. Filling the room he built with his own hands with even more warmth.

Rook leans on the doorframe with a painfully fond look on their face as they quietly listen on. Not wanting to alert their lover of their presence.

Finally, they know what Davrin sounded like when he sang to the halla in his childhood.

[wolfwhisperertf]

The Griffins and The Demons (WIP)

“You’ve been in a long term relationship before right? Something more than just a fling or a crush?”

“A few times, yes- Are you about to ask me for relationship advice Rook?”

“I think so… I guess. Is that ok? I can ask someone else if you don’t want to talk about it”

“No, it’s fine but I can’t help but wonder. Is this line of questioning going to lead to a certain Crow or Grey Warden?” 

“How’d-?” 

“Last night, you were staring as they argued and at first I thought it was just Lucanis but then I realized you weren’t just staring at one of them” 

“Ugh” Ashwyn whines as they sink to the floor next to Emmrich's desk. 

“That bad, really Rook?”

“I’ve never really had a crush before Em! I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with TWO”

“Ah”

“Don’t ‘Ah’ me! You sound like Keiran”

[inquisimer]

before you can kill the monster (you have to say its name)

In which I lovingly work the nuance from Last Flight into Davrin's Veilguard arc 😌 I adored seeing the characters in the game, but this idea for a more fleshed out resolution for Isseya & Valya seized me as soon as I finished the quest.

✨ read it on ao3 here ✨

Isseya & Valya, Caronel/Valya | Rated T | ch 1/10 | No Warnings When Davrin and Rook reach their final confrontation with the Gloom Howler, they're interrupted by the last person they'd expect. But Valya followed them for a reason, and she won't let them kill Isseya until they know the truth. The whole truth, this time.

[velvet-apricots]

I posted a series of ficlets pretaining to the Veilguard finding out/thinking about Rook and Emmrich's relationship!

Fic Summary:

The Veilguard all have noticed something happening between Emmrich and Rook. Some have noticed it more than others.