#eleanor ingellvar

[teamtakagi]

A Warden and One Lonely Girl

Response to @a-mumbling-nerd's Will Things Get Better? and One Lonely Girl and a Letter. Please read those first!

Takes place after Nhial and Jerran's fight in What are Friends For? .

Eleanor, Yesult - @a-mumbling-nerd (Again, huge thanks for input and dialogue!)

Rooks briefly mentioned:

Jin - @wickedadaar (I alluded to the Inglorious Rooks, but it’s not specified)

Nheil, Bug - @so--whoonos

Rowena - @booksncatsworld

Dolores - @legendstrauma

Nels - @madrabbit014

Thank you for allowing me to use them!

Grey Warden Quarters

Usually, Jerran’s room was a haven. Tonight, it felt too quiet. Too empty. Too easy for the memories to haunt him. Jerran dragged himself out of bed, moving slowly as his ribs screamed at him. The healers promised they weren’t broken, just bruised. His dry throat made it hard to swallow and his eyes felt scratchy. Fuck. I feel like an ogre ran me over in the Deep Roads. 

After multiple days out on patrol, Sergeant Jin had ordered him to take a couple days off to recover. He grimaced, remembering nearly being caught in a magically-induced ice storm, and his fingers tingled at the memory. 

His shoulder – once dislocated early in his Grey Warden career – ached. He swigged an elfroot potion and bent over a wash basin to splash water on his face as he waited for the medicine to take effect. 

Roughly pushing wet hair away from his eyes, Jerran caught a glimpse of himself in the shaving mirror hanging on the wall. A haggard face decorated in bruises and scrapes stared back. A collage of yellow, green, and faded purple encircled his right eye; a souvenir from Nheil’s and his tussle. 

Nheil. Shit. Ellie.

The Crow mentioned that Eleanor wasn’t doing well; Jerran fully intended to check up on her after the fight.  

But with Sergeant Jin calling for an emergency mission to thwart a Venatori assault on the Minrathous upper neighborhoods, Jerran had no choice but to respond to the orders. Three days later … he'd finally returned, battered. 

Despite his aching muscles, he threw on his fatigues, tightening the belt two notches more to fit properly, and pulled on a pair of clean boots. It would have to do. He grabbed a halla doe carving that he’d been working on to match the first one that he’d given Ellie.

The Lighthouse was fairly quiet as he made his way to the Mournwatcher area since most people were asleep. Or at least the Lighthouse had excellent soundproof walls. Bug greeted him as he entered the Mournwatcher hallway. 

After petting the skeleton dog, Jerran stopped in front of Eleanor’s door and knocked. It cracked open slightly under his hand. “Ellie? You there?” 

No reply. 

After knocking once more, he pushed it open. He could always beg forgiveness later for intruding on her privacy.

Her bedroom, a casual mixture of elegance and slightly worn furniture with light green mint-painted walls, usually reminded Jerran of an airy impression of the Necropolis. As neat and orderly as the memorial gardens themselves, a reflection of her brilliant mind. He usually enjoyed visiting her as she practiced the harp sitting in the corner of the room.

Today though…. He nearly tripped over a pile of books toppled over in the middle of her bedroom and frowned. She always treated the tomes with utmost respect, something she’d learned from her parents and a famed professor. He nudged them aside with his boot to make room as he stepped toward the bed.

Haphazardly-stacked teacups teetered on a side table amidst scribbled papers and even more books. He caught the porcelain dishes before they crashed to the floor and set them aside. Picking up one of the papers, he noted that she’d been writing notes on the Blight.

Turning his attention toward the bed, he stilled. A mound of blankets lay jumbled in a heap instead of the typical basket that Eleanor routinely used in the morning. Is she sick? Like himself, Eleanor cocooned herself when she wasn’t feeling well. Maker help us if we both got sick, he’d joked once. She’d giggled and suggested stacking elfroot potions and snickerdoodles on a nearby table. 

His first halla carving lay on the pillow along with a folded piece of expensive stationary with the Ingellvar coat of arms. Picking up the note, he unfolded it, skimming the elegant penmanship: 

___

Dearest Eleanor Rudith Amaryllis Ingellvar,

Your father and I have received word from your dear Aunt Dolores Ingellvar that things may not be as well as you have previously inscribed since our last missive. We are thankful for informing us of your physical well-being, though we fear, based on your Aunt’s description, that may also be in jeopardy.

While your father and I are incredibly proud of you for taking on this challenge, we both agree that perhaps it is best for you to return home. Be sure to inform your Aunt of your decision and we will make the arrangements.

With love,

Yesult Persephone Honora Ingellvar

____

He re-read the note, hoping he was wrong.

Ellie was leaving.

Fuck, fuck fuck. Why hadn’t anyone told him? She was at the Lighthouse; she should have been safe. Rubbing a hand over his face, he considered the situation. Her trunks weren’t set out, so she hadn’t started packing yet. He had a chance, maybe. 

Although, wouldn’t it be better for her health if she did go? 

I need to talk to her. He tossed the note back on the bed and wove his way through the mess. As though sensing Jerran’s growing agitation, Bug remained out in the hallway. “Do you know where she is, boy?” 

The skeleton dog pranced around Jerran’s legs before leading him to Rowena’s room. Through the slightly open door, he saw pale gold hair. He raised her hand to knock when he heard Ellie's sobs.

“I just want him here. I know he's changed – that he’s different. But I miss him, Rowena. It's been over a week and he hasn't said a word. He said he'd always be there for me.”

His body felt cold as he realized what he’d done. 

She’d told him once that loneliness had been her greatest companion and fear in the Necropolis; she’d felt ugly and unloved. And what had he done? Left her. 

To keep her safe, he’d reasoned. The blood magic, the Blight… it's too much risk.

But isn’t that what his own father did? Suddenly Jerran was eight years old again, watching his father leave on yet another mercenary trip, refusing to even glance in the young elf’s direction. 

Always staying one night and leaving the next morning after barely exchanging words beyond Stop sniveling.  Jerran reminded him too much of her – Gwynna, his wife. Jerran’s mother. 

Eventually, his father stopped coming home all together, leaving Jerran left behind to wonder. 

I just want him here.

Rowena's voice murmuring  something too low for him to catch brought him back to the present. He cleared his throat. “Ellie? Are you there?” 

Footsteps. Then Rowena appeared, her usually kind face cool with disapproval. “Thorne.”

“Rowena. Is Ellie there?” 

Rowena opened her mouth, no doubt to deny it, when Eleanor’s wavering voice came from behind her. “J-Jerran?”

Reluctantly, Rowena stepped aside, allowing Jerran to peer in. His eyes widened.

Eleanor huddled on Rowena’s bed, a blanket wrapped around her as she sniffled. She glanced toward him, her face puffy from crying and lack of sleep. Dark smudges underlined her eyes, accentuating her paler-than-normal skin. Her lips trembled as tears filled her glassy eyes. Hair, usually immaculately braided or let down in loose waves, lay matted and tangled down her back.

Rowena cleared her throat. “Say what you need to say, Thorne.” Her tone made the Necropolis seem as warm as a Rivainian beach.

“Ellie… I… I heard you were sick.” Jerran started to take a step into the room and halted at Rowena’s glare. “Could we talk? Please? In private?”

Rowena’s eyes flickered to Eleanor, raising her eyebrows slightly. At Eleanor’s nod, the white-haired Mournwatcher stood aside, allowing Jerran to pass her. “I will not be far.” The withering look she gave Jerran would have made Nels proud. She stepped out into the hallway.

Jerran stepped into the room and partially closed the door behind them. Eleanor looked up at him with the same misery that he’d seen in his own reflection. “You’re here. I’m not going to wake up and realize this is a dream, am I?” she whispered.

He swallowed hard. “No, Ellie. I’m really here.” He tentatively sat next to her, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes filled with so much heartache. “I…I should have been there for you, Ellie. I was so wrapped up in my own head – I thought you’d be safe here, among friends. 

“I broke my promise to you, the one person that matters most to me in this whole damn world.

“Sorry isn’t enough. But I am sorry, Ellie, that I fucked up so badly.” He steeled himself for the next part. “I get it, if you want to go home and forget about me. You deserve a lot better.”

[honouredghost]

Happy New Year Emmrook Enjoyers, I’m back on my mediocre shit with a new chapter. <3 It is, perhaps, a little spooky? and a little horny? All the important things in life.

[linposter]

Nameless Rook🩸 x Rooks - Kiss Roulette pt. 3

Batch 3 of Rook-smoochin with some angst and comfort this time 🫂💋 Prompts list is here for ref. We have;

@alliminoobers - 21(b). WILD CARD!🃏An impulse kiss in thee rain with Shirevas Mercar. Do umbrellas exist in Thedas?

@booksncatsworld - 24. A sleepy kiss with Rowena Ingellvar. It was her turn to make sure Rook actually fell asleep tonight.

@wardentabriis - 33. A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking from Lin Thorne. One nerd kisses the effects of another nerds poor choices (more blood magic, womp womp.)

@a-mumbling-nerd - 26. A kiss while one or both parties are crying with Eleanor de Riva. Neither are coping well post-PoR. :(

TY for giving me your Rooks to play with, hope they do them justice 💚

Rook Batch 1 | Rook Batch 2 | Rook Batch 4

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Uh, hi hello. It's me once again on a Wednesday afternoon. I haven't been able to pluck at much of my writing lately, but you can have most of what I have been able to write in the last week. Let the torture begin...

Tagging: @starfleetteddybear @dirty-bosmer @the-bear-and-his-sunbird @skyrim-forever @caughtnyact @theoneandonlysemla @draco-illius-noctis @moriche @guacamolleee @theyearningghoul @aldisobey @sylvienerevarine @paramortality @razildor @redheadsramblings @holdingontojupiter @hedwigoprah @crimsen-khalessi and anyone else out there who I know is writing. I just tagged every moot that the two remaining brain cells I have can remember. (If I missed you, it's not because I don't love you. It's because I have been running around since 9am and my day doesn't finish until 7pm.)

Perhaps in hindsight it would have been better if she had told Emmrich of her nightmares. Then again, she thinks as she sits hunched over a book next to Eleanore, it also might not, especially considering some of the more recent details which have emerged in them. A shiver rolls down her spine as she remembers the phantom feeling of his lips against her neck.

“What are you thinking about?” Eleanore elbows Iris. “You’ve been reading the same page for the past half hour, and I know you’re not that slow.” 

“Nothing much, just about my upcoming test, planning classes…how infuriating you are.” A teasing smile slides onto her face.

“You seem to be thinking pretty hard for it to be about nothing.”

Iris’ quill scrawls across the page in a series of tightly-coiled spirals, a manifestation of the turmoil she feels broiling on the inside. How long has this been going on now? How many dreams can she count which have either woken her up in cold sweat or drenched in an entirely different sense? Aroused and left only to the relief of her daydreams of Emmrich’s—

The nib breaks through the surface of her parchment leaving an inky spatter.

Eleanore’s eyes widen. “Alright, spill before you ruin the tables and Audric bans us from working in the library.”

As color works its way up onto Iris’ cheeks, she knows that there is no way she is getting out of this unscathed and without a tremendous amount of teasing from her. She may as well go bury herself under the Necropolis’ floor. The epitaph will read, Here lies Iris Ingellvar, diligent Mourn Watcher and daughter of no one. Died from being badgered about her non-existent love life.

“Go on.” She bats her lashes. “You have my undivided attention especially when you are blushing oh so prettily. Is it Emmrich? It’s Emmrich isn’t it. Has he bent you over his desk yet after—”

“Eleanore! I—”

Her friend's only response is a raise of a brow. “Well, did he?”

“He absolutely did not, and I wouldn’t have let him even if—”

“Mmhmm.” Eleanore looks her in the eye, straightening herself and throwing back her shoulders to copy Iris’ posture. “I’m Iris, and I am pining after Emmrich Volkarin. All I can think about are his sexy hands and what they’d do to me. Man wears far too much tempting jewelry on them. I want him. Now.”

“That’s not—”

“Don’t even try to tell me it’s not. What were you thinking about earlier? Hm? Tell me it wasn’t him, and I will eat this book.” She picks up the heavy tome on spiritual exorcism in front of Iris.

“I—”

“You can’t, can you?” A self-satisfied smirk stretches across her lips.

[i-creatied-au]

Kiss Roulette 😘 with Rooks

Finally made drawings for all asks with kisses. Post with kiss roulette here

Jerran belongs to @teamtakagi

Zephyr belong to @larknnightingale

Aria belongs to @bubblecat-co

Eleanor belongs to @a-mumbling-nerd

Reto Ingellvar belongs to @tiravi

Ambrose belongs to @knowlsey

I like how everyone chill and cosy, and meanwhile Aria with Hol:

[legendstrauma]

All My Rooks From Every Faction (AKA The Trauma Troupe):

Dáire Mercar (He/Him)

He’s just a kid and life is a nightmare

Sloane de Riva (She/Her)

Just that bitch

Orri Thorne (He/They)

Bakes cupcakes

Aris Aldwir (They/Them)

Child prodigy of the Veil Jumpers, literally fourteen

Marek Laidir (He/Him)

Trouble Incarnate, literally twelve

Dolores Ingellvar (She/Her)

Canonically Eleanor’s ( @a-mumbling-nerd ) Auntie Dolores

[bubblecat-co]

Rook Wednesday: Aria attending the Thorne-Ingellvar wedding

I have to leave for work soon, I started this last night finish it right before here we go! So it may not be as up to par as my other writings

Rooks involved:

Isiah: @a-mumbling-nerd

Ambrose: @knowlsey

Portia: @booksncatsworld

Shirevas: @alliminoobers

Nels: @madrabbit014

Zephyr: @larknnightingale

Word count: 967

Large crowds, fancy clothing, and alcohol. Two of those things Aria didn't enjoy too much but one of those things she could enjoy. When she got the invitation for the wedding, she had to make a quick stop to everyone who had bet with her who would be the first to marry. She won that bet, knowing full well that the two elves whose wedding she now attended would be the first to tie the knot against the judgment of a couple others. Never bet against a crow.

The dress she wore was custom, one that Teia and Viago had worked together on, making sure was just right with a dressmaker. More skin showing than she would personally enjoy, but at least the dress was simple, and she could still hide a knife or two attached to her body. She wasn't one for anything fancy, so the dress was still simple but with the usual antivan crow style. On her shoulders were crow feathers that were attached to a long black cape. It had been 2 years since she was called ‘Advisor’ by anyone, and now she would actively see those people. Isiah had told her to keep her poisons at home, which she reluctantly did, but she still had antidotes hidden on her just in case.

Only thing that sorta bothered her, were the scars that showed on her chest. She knew why they were being flaunted. scars make people question, wonder and those scars were deep and spread far proving the life she led was one with no comfort.

“Aria…” Isiah squeezed her hand as he looked at her, a faint smile on his lips. He had been trying to keep his eyes from staring down at her chest since they arrived. It was adorable to her how he tried but couldn't help but fail.

“I'll be fine. Let us mingle.” She gave him a similar smile. Her voice soft. If she saw any of her crows, she would have to return to that edge, but for now and for him, she would be soft.

“Nels should be around here somewhere.” Isiah commented as they walked through the crowd. There are so many people she didn't know, so many people to keep an eye on. Paranoia was a curse to her, but she tried to keep her mind focused on the elf holding her hand. Heloise should be around, Aria hoped she didn't get overwhelmed and found a hiding spot. The estate had a lot of ground to cover.

“lipstick!” The nickname stuck out so strong as the two turned to find the trouble trio had already found each other and made a small Meeting around By a buffet table.

“Kicker, Shiv, and Bellezza. You three behaving?” she couldn’t help the smile on her lips as they stopped in front of her.

“We wouldn't do anything to take away from Eleanor’s big day.” Portia gave a lopsided smile as she tilted her head innocently.

“You better not.”

“have you seen Alecto?” Shirevas’ gazed around them. Their eyes were searching the crowd excitement and nervous swirling in their expression.

“she’s here.” Aria stated plainly, but Isiah gave her a small nudged with a smile. “She'll be here.”

Isiah’s gaze trailed off a hint of nervousness hitting him “I'll be right back.” He gave her a small kiss on the cheek before walking away.

“Tesoro?” She turned to watch him leave, but he vanished in the crowd.

“Sooo… you are Isiah doing well?” Ambrose raised an eyebrow “do I see a wedding of your own soon? I would love to see a crow wedding!”

Aria chuckled and rolled her eyes “if i were to marry, I would rather not have it revolve around the crows. Knowing Viago and Teia, though, it might end up doing that.”

“So why not two weddings? A crow wedding and your own private one?” Portia shrugged

“we are talking so far in the future, Charmer.” Aria chuckled as she felt an arm wrap over her shoulders. Instinct kicked in . She grabbed the arm and flipped the mysterious person down on the ground. Causing a loud thud to erupt in the room and a hushed silence wash over everyone. On the ground, giving her a lopsided smile was the only person brave enough to do something as stupid as come up behind her without saying anything and touch her, Nels. “fighter you should know by now to say something before you touch me.”

“That's my Ria. Where would the fun be in that?” they stood up from the ground, dusting off their fancy clothes before enveloping Aria into a hug. She allowed it, wrapping her own arms around them. Family; that's who these people were and who they'll always be.

“Where's Zephyr?” they broke away from their hug.

“Over there watching everyone.” They pointed over to a small corner where the tall pale elf was standing. When their eyes met, Zephyr gave Aria a small smile and nod, which she returned.

“I would be doing the same, but Isiah wanted to mingle.”

“Where is he?”

“He left just before you got here.” Shirevas answered. “When do weddings typically start?”

“don't ask me. The only weddings I've been to were for jobs. Have you guys seen Heloise?” Aria was scanning the crowd for the smaller elven girl. It was much harder to find her than it would be to find anyone else.

“No, it's a little difficult to find anyone here.” Portia muttered “oh look! Nheil!” With that, Portia vanished with the crowd.

“there goes one. I suppose I should go find Isiah. I'll see you guys during the reception.” She gave a small nod before turning to enter the crowd. Hoping to find one shadow dragon among the many that attended wherever he ran off to.

[galaxykittye]

My 7 rooks as Models <3 From left to right: - Saphira Ingellvar _ Mourn Watcher - Dratarsia de Riva _ Antivan Crows - Alenia Aldwir _ Veil Jumper - Ariel Laidir _ Lords of Fortune - Apollo Mercar _ Shadow Dragons - Farryn Thorne _ Grey Wardens - Eleanor Aldwir _ Veil Jumper

[videogame-ocs]

Important Facts about Cassius Ignatus Ingellvar, my Rook for the Emotional Damage Worldstate that also ring true in my canon Worldstate: The Shattered Crown:

Early Life:

Cassius is biologically the grandson of both Bann Fearchar Mac Enraig (maternal) and King Markus Pentaghast of Nevarra (yeah okay King Markus canonically didn’t have kids but canon is mouldable to our own wishes) Making him a bastard prince & Nevarran noblility technically, and both the biological cousin of the Hero of Ferelden and a distant cousin of Cassandra Pentaghast.

His real name is not actually known by anyone. Although Eleanor Cousland’s younger sister did talk about a son who she’d named Domhnall once, leading Eleanor and Bryce to believe the baby had died at birth during a eighteen month trip she took to Nevarra.

His father, King Markus’ secret son was murdered in the chasm of the Necropolis after hiding his son away in a tomb, saving his life, his body was promptly stuffed in a tomb in the chasm hidden away by Markus’ opponents. Cassius would later stumble across the tomb with the help of Emmrich 30 or so years later.

baby Cassius was found shortly after by Vorgoth and a few skeletons, and was taken in and raised by an couple of Mourn Watchers who couldn’t have children of their own. They gave him the name Cassius Ignatus Ingellvar.

His magic manifested when he was eleven.

Before enrolling as a student at the Necropolis himself Cassius liked hanging round the streets of Nevarra people watching although when he says it he does sound like he lived on the streets for a bit. That’s not really the case though.

His parents died of old age just before he was accepted into the academy, within weeks of each other.

The incident:

Cassius is canonically disabled. He’s half blind.

During his time as a student he was honestly brilliant. He was well behaved, he loved learning, he was very eager to participate in classes.

But….one day when he was fourteen, everything went wrong. A fellow student of his was experimenting with a new method of resurrection and accidentally caused an accident, zapping Cassius with electricity which sent him flying, and knocked him unconscious for four weeks, he was severely injured with burns all over his body and he lost vision in his right eye completely. His injuries eventually healed and scarred over but his vision never recovered. His eye doesn’t work at all.

Despite this, he’s never really let his disability define him, he learned how to do everything better because of it but he still has occasional slip ups, his balance isn’t the best and he sometimes mistimes jumping a little because of the distance thing.

As for his scars, when he got older, he decided to cover up the worst of them with tattoos on his arm, leg and back.

The scar on his face is kind of an insecurity point for him though but it’s also what makes him who he is in a way and he knows that.

The Rebellion:

Okay so Cassius and the rebellion still happens in both world states, I haven’t figured out what he did to actually quell it so drastically exactly, but I don’t think someone who is as good an egg who sees the best in people as Cassius would do something bad, just something that pissed off the Mourn Watchers.

Whatever he did, Cassius does leave the Watchers for a bit. Going with Varric in the Emotional Damage Worldstate (his Rook run) or being sent on a trip only returning help the Veilguard (my canon Worldstate).

Whatever happens though, he ends up aiding the Veilguard, so much so that he befriends and develops a close bond with Emmrich specifically.

Romantic Relationships

Speaking of relationships, Cassius is gay and in a relationship with bone daddy himself, Emmrich Volkarin.

In the Shattered Crown it’s a little more complicated than in the Emotional Damage Worldstate, as Emmrich and Strife do date for a while but it doesn’t last because they’re just….too different (side note I don’t like the Strife/Emmrich romance, it just comes out of nowhere, unlike Neve and Lucanis or Harding and Taash) and Emmrich is kind of accidentally swept off his feet by Cassius.

But more on the above point will be coming in a future post, when I get round to figuring out and explaining the logistics of how my canon Worldstate works.

Cassius has never been in a relationship before, kind of like Ariadne De Riva, my canon Rook, but he has different reasons to Ariadne as to why that is and that is because he didn’t think anyone could love him due to his scars and disability for a long time. Also he had only just about figured out his sexuality when Emmrich came swanning into the Veilguard and sealed it for him,

Cassius is actually older than Emmrich initially thinks, he’s 30. But that still a good 20 or so years between them so the worry Emmrich has is reasonable.

Cassius likes Emmrich because he’s so knowledgeable and smart and kind. It’s his gentleness and kindness that makes him fall for him.

Anyway Cassius and Emmrich’s relationship does end up much the same in the Shattered Crown Worldstate as the romance in the Emotional Damage Worldstate, just with some minor changes (like that Emmrich had already sacrificed the Lich thing and obviously Cassius doesn’t go through the trapped in the fade thing and most, if not all of the games events are over).

Miscellaneous:

Cassius is kind and just a purely good egg. he just tries to see the best in everyone but he’s not naive. He has his moments of anger when something I just happens or people aren’t listening to him although he prefers to deal with those people diplomatically but he will punch if he has to.

He’s also very charming and has an odd timing with flirting.

Vorgoth is basically his adopted dad at this point. It’s kind of funny.

He’s going prematurely grey.

He believes in the Maker, he’s Andrastian in faith.

But he also believes that spirits retain something of themselves when they die and are raised back from the dead.

[teamtakagi]

Language of Flowers Ask #3

Wisteria: Write a scene where Rook dances with their partner.

Original prompt located here

Thank you for the ask, @elfmaid!

I absolutely went overboard with this one, so it got pretty long.

(Is this accurate to Nevarra culture? Probably not. But I fell into a deep rabbit hole of researching Regency dances and etiquette, so here we are. Just let me have a cute fluffy Pride and Prejudice-inspired scene. 

Also: Jerran now has a Swear Jar where it's a bit more limited. It's slipping out in real life and the mini-mes are delightful little parrots right now)

HUGE Thanks to @a-mumbling-nerd for entrusting me with Eleanor and previewing it to make sure that I did her and her family justice, as well as providing some dialogue. I am so honored to be allowed to work with such a wonderful character).

______

The crowded Nevarran ballroom’s air of stilted politeness, centuries of tradition, and social sparring weighed upon Jerran as heavily as Davrin’s ceremonial armor. Gold and other precious jewels dripped from the high chandeliers to the wall reliefs depicting the Cycle of Life and Death, to even the human attendees themselves. A few elves dressed in dark clothing stood around the edges of the room, only springing forward to assist when needed. 

Glancing around, Jerran subtly tried to slip a finger under his richly embroidered jacket’s collar as it dug into his neck.  He accidentally caught the eye of an older woman, who seemed offended at his very existence. She gasped when he winked at her before she turned to whisper with a companion.

A skeleton waiter offered a tray of glasses filled with a mysterious amber-filled liquid. He automatically took one and thinned his lips at the cloying stickiness coating his tongue. Maker’s Breath, I’d rather drink from the Joining Cup again.  At least that knocked him unconscious.

A small hand squeezed the crook of his elbow, and he turned to see Eleanor beaming up at him. “Isn’t this so exciting? I’ve always dreamed of attending these. I’ve never been to one, at least, one where I danced with someone. But I've read about them,” she giggled, waving her own crystal goblet.  

Jerran smiled back. Eleanor, of course, looked beautiful in a white gown with flouncy gold-trimmed sleeves and a black jacket where matching gold threads shimmered in the candles lining the room. He squeezed her hand, trying to hide the sour feeling at the pit of his stomach.

From where they stood next to disapproving matrons and nervous young people waiting for their turn, he observed couples gracefully bobbing and weaving in a lively dance. As the music ended and the next dance was called, they bowed and scattered, exchanging places with those next in line. 

A couple of young ladies paused to speak to Eleanor, who slightly jumped at their attention. “Cousin Eleanor! Oh, it’s such a delight to see you again,” one with hair coiled with golden beads gushed, sounding as overly sweet as the punch. “Such a shame Uncle Khoen and Aunt Yesult couldn’t make it this time.”

“But what an honor for their daughter to attend. You must come again with your… beau.” Her pale-haired friend glanced up at Jerran, amusement in her blue eyes. “He seems… interesting.”

Eleanor made introductions; Jerran instantly forgot their names. He mumbled, “Nice to meet you.” 

The young women acknowledged him with a slight head tilts, but they made no reply as they giggled about the fashions this year. Jerran tuned them out.

How the hell did I get here? He absently took another sip of the punch, not bothering to hide the grimace. 

Oh yeah. Three days ago, a panicking Eleanor had burst into his room waving a missive in his face. A relative, a great uncle five times removed or something – Jerran’s eyes glazed over while trying to remember all of Eleanor’s extended relations – was holding a very important yearly ball that Eleanor’s parents were absolutely required to attend, due to family obligations and honor. 

Or something.

The only problem? Apparently, Eleanor’s parents were neck deep in some sort of Spirit Research (again, Jerran’s eyes glazed over when she tried to explain) and just couldn’t possibly attend. 

Perhaps Eleanor and that Grey Warden beau of hers could go in their stead? Dance a few dances, smile at the relatives. It would be easy. Never mind that the gods were trying to enslave everyone with the Blight.

And for Maker and Andraste's sake, be sure to greet the Duchess Isla Ingellvar properly. As one of their patrons, it was of the absolute utmost importance. 

It seemed dumb. But what was important to Eleanor was important to Jerran. If that meant dressing in awful clothes and sip sickly-sweet punch for one evening, so be it. 

Only Emmrich had gasped when Jerran told him the news. “My dear lad, you would be eaten alive at such an affair. One must know the proper etiquette to avoid offence. And the dances! They are equal parts diplomacy as well as entertainment. Which… please don't take this the wrong way, is not your strongest suit.”

Before Jerran could protest, the Necromancer clapped his hands together as he turned to Manfred. “We must begin at once for you to learn ‘Death Becomes Us’ and at least the waltz. Ironically, ‘Death Becomes Us’ is a lively dance, meant to evoke the fleeting….” He continued muttering under his breath as he pulled out several dancing instruction books.

They'd recruited Bellara as a substitute partner; she’d happily agreed after being sworn to secrecy in exchange for allowing her to use the experience in her budding romance serial. Between investigating suspicious Venatori sightings and haunted candlehops, Emmrich instructed them in his room.

“Dancing is remarkably like combat. There’s a rhythm and pattern to it that once you recognize, you’ll be able to apply to anything. This will help you in battle as well,” Emmrich said as Jerran spun Bellara the wrong way. “Do it. Again.”

Thankfully, Eleanor hadn’t noticed Jerran’s absence. She’d been too busy practicing the proper bowing and worrying over the right words to say to the Duchess. She was representing her branch of the family after all.

Two nights later, Jerran was semi-confident that he might be able to conquer the livelier dances; they were remarkably similar to the folk dances he'd been forced to learn as a child. If drunken nobles could do it, Jerran could do it – Emmrich assured him, pulling out a chart listing Ingellvar relations and how to address them properly.

The social stuff? He was doomed. “Sorry, Doc,” Jerran muttered. 

“Hmm? What was that?” Eleanor’s slightly anxious voice brought him back to the present.

“Nothing.” He glanced down at her as she stood slightly on her tiptoes to peer over the other Ingellvars’ shoulders. “Relax, you’re going to give yourself a headache at this rate.” 

“I know.” She bit her lip as she curtseyed slightly to a passing older bearded gentleman and greeted him. “Mother and Father put a lot of emphasis on greeting the Duchess tonight. I just want to do it right.” 

“I’ll let you know if anyone seems Duchess-y.” He noticed that her cup was empty and took it from her as a stately older woman with sharp eyes and wearing enough jewelry to fill a Minrathous shop window stopped in front of them.

“How unusual to see Khoen and Yesult’s …. daughter here. I suppose they couldn’t make it?” she asked brightly, smiling.

Eleanor’s hesitation told him that she hadn’t recognized the stranger either. Jerran cleared his throat. “Yes, they had some sort of business in the Necropolis.”

The woman’s smile froze for an instant, and a slight look of disdain flashed in her eyes before her face smoothed over. “How … delightful. I suppose this is your suitor, the Grey Warden. Yesult was telling me all about him.” 

“Jerran Thorne. And you are….?” 

She winced as though he’d stomped all over her fine robes in muddy boots. “My dear, we have not been properly introduced. I would have expected even a foundling daughter of Khoen and Yesult to know her manners better.”

He bit back a choice retort; Eleanor had made him absolutely promise not to swear at this function. It was getting harder to keep his word. “Then I guess you’re not worth —”

Eleanor grabbed his arm, looking absolutely horrified. “Duchess Isa Ingellvar, may I present Junior Grey Warden Jerran Thorne? My suitor and the leader known as Rook,” she blurted out.

So, this was that Duchess. Jerran raised an eyebrow. “Charmed,” he said dryly.

“Mmm.” The duchess’s lips twisted. Then she dismissed him and took Eleanor’s hands. “Eleanor, please extend my courtesies to your parents. Tell them that they were sorely missed and we may need to discuss budget cuts the next time we meet.” The woman immediately turned away and began loudly talking to a matron sitting along the wall. 

Jerran glanced down at Eleanor, who looked like she was visibly wilting. “Ellie?”

“That was her. The one that Mother and Father wanted me to greet. I failed to recognize her and now….” She hesitated, blinking rapidly. “Jerran, just let me speak with people, all right? Please.”

Shit. “Ellie, I —-” 

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” She forced a smile, but he could still see a hint of tears in her eyes.

 Distantly, he heard a female calling out the next dance: Death Becomes Us. He knew that one. 

“Do you want to try to dance?” he asked, desperately trying to salvage anything left of the situation.

“I… I don’t think I feel like dancing now. I’m sorry.” She took a deep shuddering breath. “I think I might need more punch with some chocolate and strawberries.”

“Sure.” He gladly fetched a plate, noting that word must have gotten around. Although not overtly unfriendly, there was just the imperceptible hint of chill from the people surrounding him. Just the slightest avoidance of the shoulder from one lady so there was no chance of his arm brushing up against her as he passed. A bold stare and smirk from the man across the way. A girl seeing him, stopping, and moving in another direction.

His ears – honed from hundreds of hours on patrol hunting Darkspawn – caught snippets of whispers:

What do you expect from a Grey Warden? 

How disappointing. I thought he’d be more impressive. Khoen and Yesult spoke of him so highly. 

That jacket… Arnfried had one like it earlier. Did he steal it? It wouldn’t surprise me.

When Eleanor excused herself to “powder her nose” (Does that mean those rooms had vats of powder in them?), he waited alone, holding an empty cup as his mind raced through the evening so far. The only thing that could be worse is someone attacking us. 

He stared at the ornate gold-rimmed glass in his hand; a set of these could feed an entire family for months. He'd known that Eleanor’s family was well-off, some sort of nobility. But seeing it with his own eyes was different. 

I’m a Grey Warden. We improvise. Go with our gut. But this…. this was a whole different world with its own rules and invisible chains.

And now, thanks to him and his big mouth, Eleanor’s parents wouldn’t get the needed funding for their research.

The stupid coat suddenly felt too tight and hot. His lungs struggled to get enough air. 

He had to get out. Now.

Slamming the stemware on a passing skeleton’s tray, Jerran escaped to a nearby balcony and leaned on the railing. 

The infernal collar choked him; he unbuttoned it, wishing he could rip the jacket off entirely. It wasn’t even his, not really. He’d scammed it off of a drunk Nevarran noble in Minrathous during a game of Wicked Grace the night before. 

Now, the richly embroidered clothing trapped Jerran as surely as one of the gold-encrusted sarcophagi standing in the nearest corner. The glinting threads mocked him in the dim light. 

For an instant, he was nine years old, cowering in a Vyrantium alley as slumming nobles in embroidered robes surrounded him. They’d tossed him a gold coin covered in dung and laughed at the little liberati as he scrabbled for it.

Eleanor deserved better. 

He wasn’t sure how long time passed before Eleanor’s slightly worried voice came from behind. “Jerran? I went looking for you, but you disappeared. Are you all right?”

Jerran forced a smile. “I'm fine.” He nodded toward the ornate garden below where skeletal workers labored below. “Nothing like watching skeletons weeding and carting dirt.”

She ignored his attempt to deflect and joined him at the railing, her shoulder touching his. “No. You're not.” A strand of pale golden hair drifted across her face. She brushed it away, looking at him. 

He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Ellie. I screwed everything up and ruined your night. Now your parents’ research is in danger because of me and everyone’s upset. You didn’t even get to dance.”

Sighing, he scratched the back of his head, looking away. “I tried practicing some of the dances with Emmrich and Bellara to try to impress you. But this society thing, I just don’t get it. I guess I’m just a dumb liberati after all.”

The lightest touch rested on his arm, and he glanced up to see her beautiful forget-me-not eyes glistening. “What matters is that you’re here with me. You took the time to learn all this for me. That is far more special. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

“But your parents’ research –”

“I’ll speak with them. They’re used to dealing with people like her.” She smiled. “The dances – will you show me? I’d love to see.”

Faintly in the background, he could hear the band starting the last song of the night, a waltz. Straightening, he bowed with an exaggerated flourish and extended a hand. “M’lady,” he intoned, mimicking Emmrich’s posh accent. “Would you care to have this dance?”

Giggling, she curtseyed. “Why, yes, my dear Warden. I shall.” 

Dancing is remarkably like combat.  Pulling her close, he instinctively fell into the pattern that Emmrich had practically beaten into him, guiding her around the balcony. She fit perfectly against him and the tenseness in his body seemed to evaporate. 

It wasn’t perfect – he barely managed to avoid her toes with a  little hop several times, and he was often out of sync with the music. 

But her eyes sparkled as he whirled her around, her dress swirling around them. For those few minutes, he forgot about the gods and the lurking crowd in the room behind them. 

All he saw was her smile.

As the music came to an end, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him softly, tasting like the strawberries that she'd eaten earlier that evening.  “That was absolutely wonderful,” she said once they came up for air. 

“Next time, I'll take you out to a tavern and we’ll do some folk dances,” he whispered in her ear. 

[honouredghost]

Seems that I have been held in some dreaming state - a tourist in the waking world, never quite awake.

Eleanor Ingellvar • elf • mortalitassi • dreamer

[knowlsey]

Rook Wednesday - Summerday

Ambrose is dressed and ready for the Thorne-Ingellvar Wedding. Formal jacket with baroque embroidery, velvet cape with glitter trim held together by handmade silver chain and Shadow Dragon pins, trousers with more glitter down the outside seam, leather belt with silver inlays, and comfortable but smart shoes for dancing.

As Eleanor's Person of Honour, Ambrose hand crafted the wedding bands for the ceremony. (top is Eleanor's, bottom is Jerran's)

[transdreadwolf]

Dragon Age Prompt Post

Hello and welcome! This post is a work in progress, please mind the dust.

All Fanfic // DADWC // Thedas Weekend

Send me a prompt!

Favorite Topics & Tropes: Queer Ships | Trans Characters | Pro-Mage | Pro-Dalish | Pro-Ferelden | Whump/Hurt/Comfort | Alternate Universes (especially ancient Arlathan, modern, soulmates, omegaverse, bdsm)

Origins: Maura Cousland x Leliana // Maura Cousland x Alistair // Fenahn Mahariel x Tamlen // Fenahn Mahariel x Duncan // Fenahn Mahariel x Zevran // Rhiannon Surana x Leliana // Rhiannon Surana x Morrigan // Nadia Brosca x Leliana // Nadia Brosca x Alistair // Kallian Tabris x Leliana // Kallian Tabris x Morrigan // Joana Amell x Anders // Joana Amell x Leliana

DA2: Marisa Hawke x Isabela // Marisa Hawke x Merrill // Marisa Hawke x Isabela x Merrill // Marisa Hawke x Meredith Stannard // Oisin Hawke x Anders // Oisin Hawke x Fenris

Inquisition: Hanin Lavellan x Solas // Hanin Lavellan x Sera // Vunehn Lavellan x Solas // Vunehn Lavellan x Dorian // Meraad Adaar x Josephine // Karaas Adaar x Dorian // Karaas Adaar x Dorian x Iron Bull // Oliver Trevelyan x Dorian // Oliver Trevelyan x Cassandra // Oliver Trevelyan x Cullen // Eleanore Trevelyan x Cassandra // Eleanore Trevelyan x Cullen

Veilguard: Soren Ingellvar x Emmrich // Renehn Aldwir x Neve Gallus // Renehn Aldwir x Emmrich // Renehn Aldwir x Solas // Renehn Aldwir x Felassan // Syrus Laidir x Neve Gallus // Syrus Laidir x Lucanis

Other: Rhona Cousland x Anora // Rhona Coulsand x Alistair // Rhona Cousland x Alistair x Anora // Rhona Cousland x Inquisitor // Rowan Tabris x Solas // Rowan Tabris x Dorian // Rowan Tabris x Iron Bull // Rowan Tabris x Dorian x Iron Bull // Fenahn Mahariel x Solas

Prompts: All Prompt Posts // Rook Codex // Rook AUs

updated 02/21/2025

[lghthse]

TEMP. MUSE LIST

Isha Mercar, animated fc Yara Ingellvar, adelaide kane Duncan Theirin Thorne, archie renaux Nicolette Trevelyan, hannah dodd Elnora Lavellan, sonoya mizuno Sura Tabris, sophia brown Nilah Brosca, animated fc Ashara Aeducan, animated fc

Bryce Cousland, iain glen Eleanor Cousland, claire forlani Fergus Cousland, charlie vickers Fearchar "The Storm Giant" Mac Eanraig, soren pilmark Jowan / Levyn, tbd Leliana, tbd Bethany Hawke, isabelle connolly Josephine Montilyet, freida pinto Lace Harding, sophie skelton Evka Ivo, tbd

[bendingwind]

Hi you wanted to hear more about my Dragon Age world states, didn't you? Naturally you do. I have more PCs than are listed here because I've played Inquisition *mumble mumble* times, these are just my three worldstates that are complete and that I've played end to end.

can't help but pull the earth around me

This is my sandbox worldstate, where I play each game blind and make decisions solely based on ~character vibes~ (I usually make choices within characterization for my PCs, but I craft the PCs that would make the decisions that lead to the story I'm trying to tell in later playthroughs. In this worldstate I just create whomever.)

The Hero of Ferelden is Elemere Cousland, bastard daughter of Eleanor Cousland, though acknowledged by Bryce Cousland. Her bastardry is a semi-open secret given that she looks nothing like either of her parents and her mother's affair wasn't entirely discreet, so she's trained to be a warrior because it's felt her prospects will be better in the army than the marriage market. She learns she's a bastard pretty early in life, and works very hard to prove she's good enough all her life. Her relationship with Fergus is rocky, but she's very close to her mother and to Bryce, who favors her. She and Alistair fall in love, though the path to that is not exactly smooth, and she marries him after the Blight. She's the POV "you" in Hero.

Marian Hawke spars with her father from an early age, and thankfully shows no signs of magic. However, when her sister is revealed to be a mage, her parents make the decision to send her to train as a templar in Gwaren, feeling it will take suspicion off the family if there's a templar sibling. She is deeply unhappy with her training and tries repeatedly to get herself dismissed, with no luck. She begins seducing chantry novices, but none of them will turn her in, until she hears of her father's illness and arranges to be caught herself, after which she is finally dismissed. Bethany nurses her through her lyrium withdraw; possibly at the cost of keeping their father alive, for which Bethany never forgives her. You know most of the rest of the story, but in this one, Bethany is a Circle Mage and Marian sides with the mages despite her misgivings due to her mother's death at the hands of blood magic.

The Inquisitor is Emira Adaar, qunari mercenary from Aqun'anti-koslun, a large settlement of Vashoth and Tal-Vasoth west of Wildervale. They support themselves through some farming but mostly through various mercenary bands, including the Valo-Kas. Emira Adaar was second-in-command of the Valo-Kas, a position she inherited from her cousin Mayan Adaar, before becoming Inquisitor. You know most of her story, too, but: she recruited the mages and she shared a certain multi-cultural, self-discovery journey with Sera. She's briefly mentioned in and yet, by heaven, i think my love as rare though I don't remember in how much detail. When that was intended to be a series, she was Dorian's soulmate (soulmates are often platonic in this 'verse).

Lynette "Rook" Ingellvar has been raised by the Mourn Watch since she was found abandoned as an infant (she's the bastard daughter of a bastard Pentaghast and only 3/4 elven, but she doesn't know that and never learns that and goes through a whole phase of studying her heritage as a teenager). As an ambitious young woman she is put in a position of responsibility but upsets several nobles, resulting in being temporarily sent away from Nevarra to accompany Varric on his adventures, and well, we all know where it goes from there. She pursues Emmrich out of ambition initially, but ends up falling in love with him and encouraging him to fill his life's dream and become a lich. She saves Treviso, loses Harding, and gets her happy ending.

and all of the ghouls come out to play

This is my canon worldstate, the first one I seriously plan out. It features the PCs who had the highest odds of making the cut (there are flowcharts and I once built a calculator specifically to figure out the odds of any given PC being the main character of a given game. I am a nerd, this should surprise no one.)

The Hero of Ferelden is Anatia Brosca, casteless dwarf of Orzammar. Anatia has been roaming the Deep Roads since she was a child, in search of Deep Mushrooms to sell to help support her family and her mother's drinking habit. She's discovered there by the cartel, who put her to work in their smuggling operations. Her story spirals out from there, and she falls in love with Zevran along the way, two mercenary-minded people finding a way to be together precisely because the level of trust between them is so clearly defined.

Marian Hawke is a mage, and furious at the world for the way it has treated her. Despite his mistrust of mages and her mistrust of him, she and Fenris find a way to be together.

The Inquisitor is Mayan Adaar, reluctant qunari mercenary. As a child growing up in Aqun'anti-koslun, she wanted to be a tamaassran, but her magic manifested when she was fourteen and she was redirected into training as a mercenary mage, all the healer support mage roles being filled. She almost gets out after rising to command the Valo-Kas (Shokrakar oversees all of the mercenary bands in my headcanon, not the Valo-Kas specifically) and marrying her second-in-command; when she gets pregnant, she is able to secure a position teaching new mages back in Aqun'anti-koslun and plans to retire. However, as they make their way back to Aqun'anti-koslun, they are attacked, and her husband is slain and she loses her unborn child. She miserably assumes command of the Valo-kas once again, and there her story begins. Wary of magic like most Vashoth mages who are only so far removed from the Qun, she sides with the templars, and she ends up with the Iron Bull. She features in half a dozen, at least.

In progress: Velriel "Rook" Aldwin, Veil Jumper and Davrin romancer

under the starry skies we are lost

This one features some of my absolute favorite PCs. Why isn't it my canon state, then, you ask? Because all of them are extremely unlikely to end up where they do (except Marian Hawke who has a 50/50 chance of being a mage I reckon). Also because this is the worldstate where I ignore canon the most.

The Hero of Ferelden is Noirin Surana, elven mage. She was born to a Denerim washerwoman and a passing Dalish elf, and passed on to the Circle at the earliest opportunity when her magic manifested. At the Circle she was badly mistreated, but a promising student nonetheless. However, her nerves and anxiety due to her mistreatment cause her Harrowing to be pushed back a few times, until she is finally Harrowed at 25, after which our story begins. She romances Morrigan thanks to the power of mods, and when it comes time to conceive the old god baby, she tricks Morrigan into agreeing to a threesome by stating it's the only way Alistair will agree, hijacks the magic and works some more magic so that she ends up the one pregnant, and then marches off to fight the archdemon. Morrigan doesn't realize anything's up for a couple months, after which she seeks out Noirin, Noirin confesses, and they ride off into the sunset together after bickering a whole lot. Noirin makes an appearance in all my possessions for a moment of time.

Marian Hawke is not a mage, and once again gets sent to the templars as in the first 'verse.

The Inquisitor is Eilona "Trev" Trevelyan, youngest daughter of Bann and Lady Trevelyan. The Trevelyans traditionally have three children; one for the land, one for the Order, and one for the Chantry. When her elder sister Cateline, destined for the Chantry, proves to be a mage, her parents decide to have another child: Eilona. Eilona is free-spirited and a bit wild, and runs off with her cousin Arina to tour the countryside at a young age, where she falls into a number of bad habits, chief among them drugs like "blue ruin", an addictive lyrium/deathroot/royal elfroot admixture. After she nearly dies of an overdose at eighteen while touring Kirkwall, her parents send her to live with her aunt in the Hercinia Chantry, and after a couple of years of good behavior they allow her to come home. However, she quickly falls into bad habits again, resulting in another trip to the Chantry, and after a few years of back-and-forth like this, a mostly-clean Trev is sent to represent the Ostwick Chantry with several sisters at the Conclave, where she becomes Inquisitor. Cullen knew of her reputation in Kirkwall and is initially very judgemental and dismissive of her, while she falls in love with him. When she discovers how he really feels she is deeply hurt, but works to shape up and live up to his expectations. He, in the meantime, comes to see the good side of her with some unsubtle nudges on the part of Leliana, and they fall in love. Also she sides with the mages in remembrance of her sister, who dies attending the conclave as a mage representative. She's in runaway and Blue Ruin (WIP).

Antonia "Anette" "Rook" de Riva was orphaned at a very young age, when the king ordered her family (minor nobility from near Brynnlaw) assassinated. She was found after the killings, and brought back to House de Riva by her birth parents' assassin, Cayetano. He and his husband Liam, a former Orlesian bard he met in his line of work, raise her for a few years until they are killed in the same internal battles for power that kill Lucanis' parents. Anette, six, is sent to become a fledgling. Three years later, a sixteen-year-old Viago joins the Crows, and Anette takes him under her wing and teaches him the ropes of fledgling life. They are often partnered together in the years that follow, until he gains his mastery through his understanding of poisons and she lags behind, her magic having finally manifested and caused her career to pause for retraining. After she learns to control her magic, Anette is primarily used for jobs that need to be flashy and brutal and often large in scale, which means they pay well but are fewer and farther between. Additionally, because she is flashy by design, many Crows look down on her and she is not in high regard when she attacks the Antaam and is sent off with Varric. She and Lucanis fall in love, though it's not a great match and they struggle a lot.

honorable mention

Because I love her I also have to mention Inquisitor Ynés Lavellan, who lost her entire family except for her son and spent years finding work as a guide taking academics, lords of fortune and other looters to elven sites to make enough money to support herself and her son after being unable to find a clan that could take another mage. She eventually rejoins clan Lavellan after two of their mages die in an epidemic and brings her son Mihail (another of my PCs) with her. By the time of Inquisition she is 42 years old and attends as a spy for her clan; she sides with the mages naturally, and romances Blackwall, though they nearly don't make it through the reveal of his true identity and her son never forgives him. Also she punches Solas because he's a dick about the Dalish, and I consider this a core component of her characterization. She's in sing me a lullaby.

Because I love him, I also have to mention Isbrand "Brand" "Rook" Thorne, Grey Warden and Neve romancer. He's featured in A Boy's Plan, in which he thinks he can evade going to a Circle by joining the Grey Wardens directly, and is set straight.

[teamtakagi]

Lighthouse Snuggles

These two are living rent-free in my head. Eleanor stole Jerran's fatigues. 🤭

Eleanor Ingellvar belongs to the lovely @a-mumbling-nerd

Idiot Warden belongs to me.

Art Sources listed below:

Art Source:

Drawings by: @a-mumbling-nerd