#mage rook

[postmanlee514]

Spite did a favor for Lucanis

I love Emmerich talks with Rookanis

[erika-xero]

For @dancing--lights! Livia - also known as Rook - and detective Neve Gallus.

Working on this illustration was s a pure delight! ~

[thesummerstorms]

Okay, but what if Lucanis does buy Rook de Riva an important (mage)knife.

He gets knives, he has a good weaponsmith, but mages don't use their knives as much for stabbing/slashing directly as channeling elemental magic to stab with, so he goes to Emmrich and asks for the simplest, most paired down explanation of crafting materials' effect on magical frequencies that is humanly possible, specifically as it applies to knives.

Emmrich reminds Lucanis that he is in fact a stave user, but Rook would be a good person to ask.

Lucanis grits his teeth because he can tell from the older man's smile that Emmrich is having some fun at his expense. Of course Emmrich knows it's for Arsinoë. Lucanis hadn't wanted to be that obvious, but he can admit that it is.

Unfortunately, even when sincere, Emmrich is incapable of simple. Poor Lucanis knew this going in, of course and decided on Emmrich anyway because Neve would catch on too quickly and spoil her own gift and Bellara was equally incapable of simple and more prone to distracted tangents. It doesn't mean he's any more prepared to make sense of all this, and in the end he has to take Emmrich to meet his weaponsmith directly.

(The resulting "collaborative brainstorming session" almost scared Lucanis, put his favorite weaponsmith in a mind to possible shift specialties entirely, and cost House Dellamorte the price of a fully functional forge. It's still worth it.)

The end result is a beautiful piece of everite that feels vividly like the air in a storm in Rook's hands yet looks deceptively crystalline and fragile. It immediately becomes her favorite, unlike the vanished knife he gave Viago all those years ago, and from her shy smiles, he likes to think this time he's been understood.

Altogether, things are going well for once. If he feels more pride than maybe is reasonable every time he sees the everite blade in her hands alive with magic that cuts through a Venatori, then that's between him and Spite.

And Arsinoë. And Neve. And honestly everyone else because he's so terrible at hiding it.

All is going well, for once.

Until Tearstone Island, when he wakes up to Neve's anguished face, purple shards like crystal that cut through his gloves as he reaches for the snapped blade and severed hilt, his blood mixing with the sand, and-

and no Rook.

[meowsgirldrawing]

Fenris POV: When yer daughter looks like you but is clearly your wife's child too

(PS. Good Luck, Lucanis)

[larkoneironaut]

Noita de Riva🪻🌩️🌌

[backtofiction28]

Rook: Lucanis, hear me out, but what if Spite did learn fire?

Spite (Lucanis): Give me! Fire!

Lucanis: NO.

Rook: But think about it, though. If Spite learned fire then you would have an easier time disposing of the bodies.

Spite (Lucanis): Rook! Is my! Favorite!

Lucanis: Mierda...

[kissmythedas]

Y'all remember than banter, I believe it's with Harding where Lucanis is sharing some tips on killing mages, and he mentions getting them angry so maybe a demon will eat them?

Mage Lucanismancers, how many of us have thought about that while also thinking of Illario'a little "You picked the wrong Dellamorte" jab??

[ferocious-notes]

So, I'm working on perfectionism.... I figured I'd try with some writing. I've got a few things cooking, but I've got a little character moment for my Warden Rook hanging out talking relationship and Warden stuff with Davrin. I don't know, there are bits I like. Maybe someone will find it entertaining....

------

“Isn’t he, you know, a little old for you?” Davrin gave her a side-long glance as he laid his knife against the block of wood slowly being peeled away to reveal a slender halla underneath. 

“Probably,” she admitted, fiddling with a curl of wood she’d picked up off the floor. “But I’ve been a Warden longer than you.” A lot longer, but none of them knew that. She didn’t need them fussing, looking at her with worry whenever she was quiet for a little too long, wondering if she’d heard something singing at the edges of her mind. Especially since she, blessedly, didn’t hear anything but Solas’ constant nagging in her sleep. She wanted to enjoy the sweetness as long as she could before the sour and the sorrow. “I figure, with this blight, why waste time? I might as well enjoy what I’ve got left.” 

Davrin’s hands stilled and he stared into the fire for a few long seconds. He swallowed, mouth pulling into a wry expression before the steady rhythm of his blade returned. 

“Well, I hope you two are happy. Doing mage things together.” 

Rook barked a laugh, “what are ‘mage things?’” 

Davrin shrugged and set his carving on the table, “I need a drink. Do you want one?” 

Pushing the lid of a wooden crate aside, he pulled a bottle out of the last case of stout ever brewed at Weisshaupt.   

“No really, what ‘mage things’ do you think we do? I’m curious.” 

“I don’t know,” he wiped out a dusty glass with the hem of his shirt, poured the dark, bittersweet beer, and handed it to her. “Tandem fade stepping? Using those sparks of yours for something I really don’t want to know about?

“Hey, my sparks are perfectly innocent, thanks very much,” she wiggled her fingers letting a frisson of energy bounce from fingertip to fingertip. 

“That’s handy,” he pointed with the bottle of stout, “you can restart Emmrich’s heart with those if you’re too much for the old man.” 

“How do you know he’s not too much for me? There’s a lot of magic in those bones, or you know…that one bone.” 

“Thanks. Just the image I needed,” Davrin choked. “Seriously though, an older man, with a kid. Kinda. You ready to be a mom? Make sure Manfred’s joints are oiled?”

“What are you on about,” she snorted into her glass, “I’m already a mum, to you needy lot.” 

“What does that make Emmrich then?” Davrin squeezed his eyes shut, realizing he’d just set up the joke perfectly. “Oh Fenedhis, don’t say it…please.” 

“Oh, he’d never be called that…”

“Well, that’s a relief, I guess…”

“He’s really more of a papa don’t you think?” 

She smiled as he dropped his head on the table, “are you trying to make this worse?”

“It’s you it bothers,” she shrugged, “not me.” 

“What about this whole…Lich thing,” his eyes grew serious. “That bother you?

“Good question,” she tipped her chair back, forcing the front legs off the ground before letting them clatter to the floor again. “It’s his life’s work, and I can’t imagine there’s any part of it he hasn’t considered…”

“But?” 

She took a drink and shrugged, “what am I supposed to say? ‘Emmrich, love, do you want to talk about what it’s really like to almost, sort of die and unmake yourself to serve the greater good? I know it sounds like I’m questioning your motives and literal decades of preparation, but why not chat it out with some half-educated, backwater Circle rat who's done it, eh? Just to make sure?’”

“Why not?” Assan chirped from the curled ball he’d been laying in on the floor, earring himself a hardy scratch on the rump. “We’re probably the only two people he knows who do sort of understand the choice he’s making. And you’re not all those things you just said. You’re a Grey Warden, and more importantly, Emmrich cares what you think. He always has, even before you started climbing into his coffin at night to ride his bone.” 

“I’m gonna start keeping a tally of these bone jokes. We’re even at this point.”

“Double points if they make sense?” 

“Triple if they’re funny. Just don’t tell Emmrich. I want to keep jumping his bones, and he might not let me if he finds out.”

Davrin snorted and stroked Assan’s wing, a feather coming loose in his hand. He handed it to Rook who took it with a sort of reverence, running her fingers up the soft plume. 

“Would you do it again?” Davrin asked, “the Joining?” 

“Maker, Davrin,” she said, tipping back the rest of her drink. “We’re going to need something a lot stronger than this piss if you’re going to keep asking me these sorts of questions.” 

“I know what you mean,” Davrin clapped his hand on the table, momentarily startling a slumbering baby griffon. “Hang on.” 

He got up and started rifling through his field pack. She started laughing the moment he came back holding an old square bottle with half the label peeled off. 

“That isn’t…”

“Sure is. Grey Whiskey. Vintage: Warden Davrin, genuine Monster Mash.” He held out his hand, a challenge on his face, “your glass, Warden.” 

“This isn’t fair,” she handed him the soon to be poison cup, “mine got lost after that tunnel collapse in Nordbotten.” 

“Life’s not fair, recruit, drink up.” 

She eyed him and the glass he’d slammed in front of her warily before accepting her fate, knocking the bottom on the table and then into her mouth. 

It tasted like cherry flavored lamp oil with a hint of turpentine and anise seed, “oh, Andraste’s flaming arsehole, that’s terrible.” 

“Yeah,”  Davrin smacked his lips together in distaste, “too much of Lucanis’ good stuff. Our taste buds are growing back. Want another?” 

“You still want the answer to your question?” He nodded. “Then, yeah, give me another.” 

“So?” 

“I don’t know,” Davrin gave her a very dissatisfied look, though it was the only honest answer she had. “It wasn’t a choice for me.” 

“Petty theft?” He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “I know, pedaling potions without a licence. Although you are a mage, so I’m guessing it was just plain old apostasy.” 

“Circle conscript.”

“You weren’t kidding about time running out,” Davrin’s face dropped into a grave expression. “How old were you?” 

“Old enough,” she tipped her glass into her mouth and told him the truth, “seventeen.” 

Davrin whistled, running his hands over his hair, “does Emmrich know?” 

She swallowed her throat growing tight, “no.” 

“But you’re going to tell him, right? Rook, you’ve got to tell him. He’s a good man, he doesn’t deserve…” 

“I will,” she folded her hands between her knees. “Just…not yet. I…let me have this, yeah? Just for a bit.”

[evenstarre]

pushing my davrook agenda

[houndvoice]

Outfit reference sheet for my Rook!

Was this mostly an excuse to draw her in fun dresses for attending imaginary balls with Lucanis? Duh

[postmanlee514]

Spite: Rook. No Need. For Cape.

Rook: Yeah, I’ve already got yours.

And Lucanis just can’t stop thinking Rook wearing his cape.

I LOVE my best team so much

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

WIP Monday

King Emmrich needs to find a spouse AU? Yup. Sure. Why not?

“Your Majesty, if I may…”

Emmrich stopped writing and glanced at Myrna. “Yes?”

His chief advisor sighed. “I wish to bring up a topic of great importance.” When she saw him nod, she continued. “It is the opinion of the council that you marry within the year. You have ruled for over forty years with honor and devoted yourself to Nevarra and its people.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m aware, Lady Myrna.”

Her expression remained as always stoic. “Then you are also aware that if you die without an heir, there will be war amongst the noble houses. You need an heir. Marriage—”

Marriage.

My prospects have been discussed since before my birth.

I’ve long sought love---the kind my dear parents shared. A true and enduring love that inspires poetry and song.

But I haven’t found it.

Not for a lack of trying.

Oh, but how I long for love!

“Is necessary.” He paused and folded his hands in his lap. “I agree with your assessment. That to prevent a possible war of succession I must marry and produce an heir.” Ugh, to even say the words leaves an awful taste in my mouth. Sighing, he briefly closed his eyes and then met Myrna’s gaze. “Send word to the faction representatives that they are to find suitable candidates. We will meet in three weeks---myself, you, Vorgoth, and the faction representatives. No one from the Council of Lords, I beg of you.”

Once I came of age, I invited representatives from the various factions in Thedas to my court originally as liaisons. However, as time marched on, I’ve found lasting friendships among them and count them amongst my most trusted advisors.

Especially the current group: Bellara Lutare of the Veil Jumpers; Taash from the Lords of Fortune; Lucanis Dellamorte of the Antivan Crows; Davrin of the Grey Wardens; and Lace Harding of the Inquisition.

Dear friends, comrades, and colleagues.

I trust they will excel in this task.

Three weeks, Emmrich learned that while his friends did indeed return with candidates, he found he liked approximately zero.

That was until Harding stood and presented her only potential bride.

“Her name is Lady Agnes Aldwir. She was adopted by a dwarven couple in Ferelden---the late Lord Cormoran Aldwir, a knight who served the king and was given a title for his service, and Lady Luci Aldwir, who is something I’ll tell you! Oh, and she’s human. Lady Agnes, I mean. She’s thirty…”

[thesummerstorms]

So if you hold to the idea of Viago putting Rook de Riva through the same poisons immunity training as he put himself.

Mage!Rook de Riva has absolutely been habitually poisoned with Magebane as part of their training and expected to successfully fight through the following combat matches anyway, yes?

[inthehootwetrust]

Saw people doing this with screenshots from the game, wanted to give it a go with art

[meowsgirldrawing]

Fenris and Hawke's kid in Veilguard cause why not?

Timeline wise- Prolly hard to make her in her 20s but we can pretend cause we love fun.

No her parents aren't dead, the reason she's with Varric is cause he was trying to find help with finding Solas and she popped out of nowhere like "Uncle Varric : D" like any Hawke would.

She's a mage, cause I feel like with the amount of mage-blood in BOTH parents' bloodline, there's a slim chance of her not being one. She does tend to light up blue a lot like Fenris, small streaks of her hair and eyes going crazy when she's using magic.

Spoilers Below if you haven't finished the game yet- (NO TOUCHY)

Poor uncle Varric.....

[master-of-the-elements]

I think I have a type 🧐😏

Handsome monster hunters who leave home, have estranged relationships with their family, swear to protect others, gain several scars, have their bodies altered in some way and you have to convince them to put themselves first.

And I make a weather/storm themed spellcaster/mage to romance them ☺️🙃🙂‍↕️