Tumgik
#mage rook
hexxluck · 16 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Sunsets Of Minrathous
*Moments of peace where Rook would always find the most comfort in before the storm to come.*
Art done by the wonderful @sunshinemage
17 notes · View notes
erika-xero · 10 days
Text
Tumblr media
For @dancing--lights! Livia - also known as Rook - and detective Neve Gallus.
Working on this illustration was s a pure delight! ~
550 notes · View notes
therookandthecrow · 3 months
Text
My Rook is an asshole. He's an asshole enough to ask Solas if he liked what he saw while he and Lucanis had sex all over his furniture.
46 notes · View notes
etchedjade · 6 days
Text
Help me choose a Rook color swatch!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
She’s a Veil Jumper Spellblade mage with inspiration taken from Solas’ concept art and Fenris.
FINISHED PIECE!!
20 notes · View notes
ladyzirkonia · 12 days
Text
Tumblr media
This was so much fun, you can find the template here. 🖤
16 notes · View notes
damallarky · 1 month
Text
Ok. So I got my Rook’s backstory planned out guys.
His name is Renan. He’s a Mage and a traveling musician who busks in and around Minrathous. Rook is his stage name.
He is the brother of my canon Inquisitor, Aisling Lavellan. There are five siblings in total. Ren is the oldest, and Aisling is the middle child.
His surname isn’t Lavellan, though. Gotta see what the names are in DA:V.
More under the cut!
His father was a former circle mage and his mother was a Dalish hunter.
Morag, Ren’s father, was part of a team of four mages given special permission from their circle to study ancient elven ruins to “further enhance Chantry understanding of Thedas and its history.” Jokes on them because the four Templars that were assigned to babysit the group were all mage sympathizers (one was in a relationship with one of the mages in the group, one had a mage sister who he cared about deeply, the youngest Templar was a good friend of Morag's and the last one just didn't care lol) so they basically let him get married and have kids while he was still technically doing what he set out to do.
The family traveled a lot from ruin to ruin. At some point, the group is called back to return to the Circle, but everyone decides to lie and say Morag "died" so he can stay with his family.
The good times don't last, though. Eventually, word gets out that there is an apostate running around, and Templars are sent to bring Morag back. During the process, their parents are killed, and the kids get separated, with Ren being caught by slavers and sold to Tevinter and the rest of his siblings being adopted into Clan Lavellan.
(Consequently, the reason Aisling begged to go to the conclave was because she was hoping she’d find Ren there, not realizing he never made it to a circle.)
Ren spends four years as a slave. His master's wife notices that he has a lovely singing voice and a talent for music, so she teaches him how to play the lute, harp, harpsichord, flute, and anything else she wants him to. He enjoys it because he loves music, but he knows that he is basically being kept as a pet to show off when the mood strikes.
(This is also when he meets the spirit Hope, who ends up taking the form of a Rook. She is also the inspiration behind Ren's stage name.)
At seventeen, he had a clandestine affair with his master's daughter, who was the same age as him. I think they were friends, and they cared about each other, but their relationship was more about teenage lust and Ren's cockiness than anything else. There was also maybe a little bit of a power imbalance that Ren doesn't really consider until much, much later in life. When his master's wife finds out, she is furious and orders Ren whipped within an inch of his life. He probably would have died had the daughter not begged her father to intervene. Ren is sent off to work with the rest of the household slaves. The other slaves were delighted to learn that the golden boy wasn't so golden after all, and they made his life hell.
Nine months later, Ren is summoned by his master. He learns that he has gotten his master's daughter pregnant. On her request, Ren is given his freedom on the condition that he takes the child (a boy) and never speaks a word of it to anyone.
He accepts and leaves a free man. He names his son Morag, Mor for short, after his father.
Except now he's a kid with a kid, with no money and nowhere to go in a country that actively treats his people like chattel. He's scared, and as a result, he does many things he is not proud of, things that he ends up regretting later in life, like drinking heavily and not being as good of a father to Mor as he should have been.
To support himself and his son, Ren becomes a musician and plays at bars and brothels, wherever he can get work. While busking, he meets an elven woman named Leena. Their relationship is difficult at first, but eventually, Ren decides to get his shit together, and the two eventually fall in love.
They get married, and after a while, they have their daughter, Esana. At some point, they both join the Shadow Dragons. During a mission, Leena is badly wounded and later dies of an infection. This almost causes Ren to fall off the bandwagon and back into his addiction. He, through great effort, manages to stop himself for the sake of his children who need him. The withdrawals were horrible, and it was one of the hardest things he ever had to do, but he did it because he loves his kids so much, and he wants to be a good father to them.
This is why he only drinks water, juice, or wine occasionally.
He still works for the Shadow Dragons, and now his son is beginning to work for them, too, despite the fact that Ren would rather he not put himself in danger.
More Facts
Ren is either 36 or 38, depending on how long it's been since Inquisition.
That would make Mor either 19 or 21.
Whatever the case, Esana is 13.
Mor is a mage like both of his parents. He fights more like a rogue, however. Veil ranger perhaps?
Esana's magic hasn't awakened (yet) but recently she has been having nightmares of monsters wanting her to "let them in".
Ren is a Dreamer like his father! He finds the Fade slightly annoying.
Mor was originally going to be revealed later in my Rook's story, which is why he didn't show up in my Rook's prologue fic.
Ren uses humor so he doesn't have to think about his emotions. It drives Hope nuts.
Hope is the GOAT of the bunch. Mor probably wouldn't have survived to young adulthood had it not been for Hope.
Hope is still relatively new to the whole "not being an actual spirit" thing. Like Cole, she still feels fairly compelled to provide hope to those who need it. Except now, she also eats mice and steals shiny things.
Esana unfortunately inherited her father's lack of self-preservation.
Esana and Mor are close despite their age difference. Mor is the best big brother.
Ren and Solas are going to drive each other insane. Especially once it's revealed just who the Inquisitor is. Ren and Solas will eventually find they have a lot in common and will both help each other heal in the end.
Idk where it will go in the actual game, but for now, I'm deciding that Ren and Solas will become very dear to one another. Bestie-in-Laws.
The family sitcom is called My Brother-in-Law the Dread Wolf.
Ren is very jealous of Solas's Dread Wolf form. Solas delights in this fact.
I also do not know who Ren is going to romance. I have never struggled so hard to make that choice.
7 notes · View notes
thekrazykeke · 7 days
Text
Title: Lay Me Down (Gently)
Pairing(s): Rook x Davrin. Solas x Female Lavellan (background).
Rating: T+
Warning(s): Light flirting, overthinking. Diet light voyeur tendencies. City elf Rook, Shadow Dragon Rook. Vague spoilers for Inquisition. Slice of life content, maybe?
So I wrote this flash fic before watching the twenty-minute gameplay trailer today. At the time, I was only getting little spoilers on Tiktok and even then, I avoided it because I wanted to go into the game fresh next month. I made that mistake with BG3 and I didn't wanna do that with this game too. That being said, I have a backstory/headcanon for Rook that will be adapted when it goes live. I just couldn't contain myself over Davrin anymore and had to write something. Davrin's behavior is my hc'd idea of how he'd be romanced. IT IS NOT CANON SO DON'T @ ME.
If you enjoy this, please like, reblog, and comment! ~
The Inquisitor has a white chrysanthemum in her long, black loc’d hair. 
Watching surreptitiously as they are from the window, Felasalin can begrudgingly admit that duo must have made a striking couple back in the day.
Solas with his pale skin, high cheekbones that could cut glass, bald head, full pink lips, grey-blue eyes, while radiating danger and power is definitely the stuff of any human’s sordid fantasy. 
Contrastingly, the Inquisitor, (“Call me Atisha, please,”) is just as good looking, if not more so. According to both Bellara and Davrin, she bore Mythal’s vallaslin, something not many Dalish elves did. The golden marks under her dark brown eyes resembled roots and curved up each cheek like wings, complimenting her deep brown skin. 
If Solas radiated power and danger, Atisha personified quiet strength and an indomitable spirit.
“You’re spying on them again,” Davrin’s low baritone caressed the shell of Rook’s left ear. His strong arms easily wrap around their middle and he dodges her flailing limbs. 
“Easy… easy, Lili,” He teased. “We need to work on your awareness, again, clearly.” The groan this joke earned is expected but no less heartwarming. 
“Don’t call me that,” Nose scrunching up in exaggerated disgust; leaning back against his chest, sinking into him almost, Felasalin huffed out a laugh. “…wasn’t spying,” The words are grumbled and halfhearted. Glancing down, Felasalin realized that their fingers were clutching at Davrin’s forearm and released him belatedly, a word of apology on their tongue but Davrin simply intertwined their fingers together.
A simple but intimate gesture.
Stupidly, the thought that the two of them look good together teased her brain. 
His skin is a deeper shade of brown than hers. Slightly scarred from adventures new and old. His hands were rough and calloused, but comforting. 
“Mmhm, you were definitely spying,” Davrin chuckled, squeezing her around the middle as he spun them away from the window gracefully. Then he let go and took a step back. An action which made Felasalin keenly aware of his distance, small as it is. “Do you want me to guess-?” 
Hands going behind their back to stop the instinct to clutch him close, they rocked backwards on their heels, head tilted to the side. 
“…I just don’t get it,” Davrin hummed, encouraging her to continue. “There are rumors about the Inquisitor and the Dreadwolf but I mean…” Unwillingly, her gaze went back to the older elven woman. Catching sight of Solas’ expression, how such a larger than life figure could manage to look equally devoted and pining while looking at towards another person is…humbling. Confusing.
“I thought it was a lie.”
“…Well, we should probably let them work it out in peace,” Davrin commented, tone both apologetic and teasing again. Gently, he tugged at the sharp point of her ear, finger grazing on down from cheek to neck feather light.
Embarrassingly, a soft moan escaped their lips. Davrin chuckled softly and just moments later felt his lips lightly brush the corner of her mouth. Not quite a full kiss and on autopilot Felasalin chased after him, whining as he pulled back teasingly. “And you can tell me, while you’re in my bed, exactly what label we’ll be using for us…” 
As Davrin crooked his finger, beckoning them forward, Felasalin didn’t hesitate to follow.
3 notes · View notes
valiantvillain · 11 days
Text
Mayhaps I should be a tad concerned that the first thought that came to mind when constructing Asala's list of things she likes is fire.
Just the moment this former Saarebas is on the battlefield things start bursting into flames. Also perhaps why everyone's a little hesitant to let her use the Lighthouse kitchen.
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
Text
To me it 100% makes sense that the Inquisitor and Rook aren’t interested in blood magic.
When someone who grew up in Ferelden imagines a blood mage, they’re picturing their burnout cousin who brews moonshine and has punched a cop.
Northern Marchers, or anyone else who grew up within spitting distance of Tevinter, are picturing Mitch McConnell.
872 notes · View notes
timethehobo · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Rook heard tales of the Warden, Hawke and Inquisitor and just wanted to get the questions out of the way.
602 notes · View notes
martii-art · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So, apparently, the "funny" dialogue options are getting back? 👀 Also, Lucanis being the socially awkward one, ahhh I can't wait
326 notes · View notes
robo-milky · 1 year
Note
Tumblr media
Rook
Tumblr media
Oh nooooo~ What’s this? My legs are suddenly giving out after 1 second of running?! Pwease Master Mr. Hunt, go easy on this poor, delicate, helpless cat maid— won’t you? How can I possibly have the energy to indulge you in a hunt after a long day’s worth of chores?! 🥺🥺
615 notes · View notes
therookandthecrow · 6 days
Text
My main Rook, Aloisius, is going to make his romance with Lucanis 10x more complicated than it needs to be by over-analyzing each and every single one of his words and actions.
He was so good at flirting with people and seducing them at his previous place of employment, but when it comes to palpable feelings for another person, he's a complete fish out of water.
In his head, he can come up with all sorts of elaborate confessions of love towards someone, but that's just it - they're concepts. He's divorced himself for so long from the possibility of a romantic relationship that he's internalized that he's not capable of one.
For all of his confidence and swagger, he's out of his element on the front of love and relationships. When he finally flirts with Lucanis, the options to speak to him will look like this inside of his mind:
Tumblr media
17 notes · View notes
etchedjade · 1 day
Text
Finally, I have my Rook! Her name is Valri!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Click for better quality!
Tumblr media
Note: I was thinking of opening commissions for DA characters (companions/OCs) in the Hades art style. Should I?
11 notes · View notes
blighted-elf · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Final set of my Rook in Inquisition before The Veilguard releases
108 notes · View notes
damallarky · 3 months
Text
So nothing gets me out of a ten year writer's slump like Dragon Age, apparently. I was going to write a quick character study for my Rook, but then it took a life of its own and turned into a 5000+ word monstrosity.
You can also read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57135346
Anyway, my first fic in ten years. Enjoy!
-
At the Black Swan tavern in Minrathous, an elven man with bright red hair sat on a massive barrel, tuning a lute. At first glance, it would appear that he was entirely engrossed in the instrument. If they paid close attention, however, they would notice his green eyes dart imperceptibly from guest to guest as if taking stock of each person who entered the tavern. 
To be fair, this was exactly what Renan was doing. The Shadow Dragons had been given a tip that the Venatori were having a meeting here tonight. He had been given instructions to keep an eye on them, make a note of how many attended, and if there was anyone there he recognized. 
Ren was good at that, using his talent at the lute, voice, and good looks to get him information, and he used his particular skill set often. Sometimes, he played in chamber halls and ballrooms of the Minrathous elite, and they were goldmines, to be sure. But if he was honest, he preferred the establishments of the working class. One would be surprised at how much information could be gained at the taverns and brothels of the world. 
Even better, Ren was familiar with this particular tavern, having played here countless times before. 
‘See anything good yet, Hope?’ He thought through the bond to his spirit companion, currently flitting between the rafters somewhere. He thought he had caught a glimpse of black feathers once or twice, but he couldn’t be sure. 
‘No. Not yet.’ He heard her say. 
Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, he saw the vision of a mouse cleaning itself on one of the rafters, not noticing the great, winged beast lurking in the shadows a mere foot away.
‘Hope…’, Ren moaned internally, ‘I just fed you.’
‘Well, yes… But I am still hungry.’
‘Well, I don’t want to find puked-up mouse bones on my pillow tonight. Again.'
‘Ugh. Fine.’ Hope grumbled.
Ren could practically feel the eye roll from his companion, and he struggled to keep his face neutral. He was halfway through tuning a string to A when his own stomach began to grumble. He hadn’t had much to eat today, or at all, what little he did have going to fill his daughter Esana’s belly. 
‘Maybe I should catch a mouse for you to eat.’ He heard Hope say. 
‘Thanks, but no…’
‘When was the last time you ate?’
‘In the morning.’
‘Which morning?’
‘…’
‘Renan…’
‘…Yesterday.’
‘RENAN.’
Ren winced against the shrill voice echoing in his head. A man sitting at a table nearby gave him an odd look, to which Ren responded with a sheepish wave.
“Lute strings!” He said in way of explanation. “They don’t make them like they used to.”
The man merely grunted and went back to his tankard. 
‘Look, Hope.’ He said. ‘I promise I will get something to eat tonight after we’re through.’
‘I will hold you to that, Renan.’
The tavern began to fill in earnest as more workers ended their day shift. Amongst the crowd, Ren noticed a group of shifty-eyed men gathering at a nondescript table closer to the back of the bar. It had probably the worst lighting in the entire tavern, but the darkness made it particularly well suited for those who maybe didn’t want to be watched too closely, such as lovers…. Or secretive organizations.
Interesting…
‘Is Esana still in our room?’ Ren asked as he tuned a string to E flat. 
‘Yes,’ came Hope’s reply, ‘She was asleep when I left. Why?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t want a repeat of last time, where she snuck out for an entire hour without anyone noticing after I explicitly told her not to?’
‘Ah, yes. Wherever does your daughter get her complete and utter disregard for authority? It is truly a mystery for the ages.’
Ren couldn’t help but laugh at that. Hope had become quite adept at using sarcasm over the years. 
‘Fair.’ He said. ‘I suppose she does come by it naturally.’
‘What is that mortal saying about apples and trees?’
‘Har har. Alright you made your point.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Ren saw a man walk in that he recognized. The thin, balding man was a Magister, albeit a low-ranking one. Ren couldn’t remember what the man actually did in the Magisterium, exactly, only that it was something asinine.
Asinine or note, that didn’t explain what he was doing here, of all places. The Black Swan was a little too plebeian for most Magisters.
‘Well, well.’ He thought ‘Look who’s slummin’ it up with the rest of us. Interesting.’
‘That is the man in charge of grain tax collection!’ He heard Hope say.
‘He is?’ Ren asked. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Because I pay attention, Renan.’
‘Oh… Well, I’m glad one of us does…’
Ren’s interest peaked even further as he watched as the magister walk to the back, taking a seat at the table with the group Ren had noticed earlier.
Very interesting…
‘Alright, it looks like the Venatori dinner party has started. Table in the back.’ He said. ‘Let’s get to work, shall we?’           
‘We shall. Good luck, Ren.’
‘You as well, Hope.’
Ren walked up the stairs to the small stage at the front of the bar. With a bright grin, he played the first few notes of the song on his lute and began to sing.
“Oh, come along with me, love.
Come along with me.
Come for one night and be my wife.
And come along with me.”
While still playing the notes to the chorus on the lute, Ren stopped singing to address the crowd.
“Grata! Bienviedo! Welcome good people of Minrathous.” He said. “My name is Rook, and I am here to add a little song to your evening. But enough with the pleasantries! The night is young, and I don’t know about you lot, but I am far, far too sober!”
His grin broadened as the crowd began to laugh and cheer. Ren heard a few of them shout, “Here, here!” and his playing grew stronger as he egged the crowd on further. 
“So, let’s raise a glass,” Ren crowed, “and let the night of drinking and debauchery begin!”
And, with that, he began to sing once more, his voice strong and clear.
“Well it is of a jolly butcher, as you might plainly see,
As he roved out one morning in search of company.
He went into a tavern and a fair girl he did see
And said ‘Come for one night and be my wife,
Oh come along with me!’”
Ren jumped off of the stage and began to weave in and around the tables as he continued his song. 
“He called for liquor of the best
And he made such fortune play
‘Come have a drink, it'll make us think
That it is our wedding day’”
‘I cannot hear them, Renan.’ He heard Hope’s voice say in his head as he played. ‘Distract them so I can fly down and slip underneath their table.’
Ren began to maneuver himself to the back of the bar, stopping every so often to play at another table to make it look less conspicuous. He danced around a waitress as she was carrying mugs of ale, giving her a bright smile that made her blush prettily. Finally, he stopped at the Venatori’s table, placing his foot on the edge of the table top with a thunk. Balancing his lute on his knee while he played, he leaned forward and winked at the Magister, who fumed. So focused were they all at the elf and his sheer audacity, that they didn’t notice the small black figure silently fly down from the rafters, dodge the various foot traffic, and tiptoe underneath the table.
‘I made it, Ren!’ Hope crowed, triumphantly.
Ren beamed at the crowd and continued his song.
“Well, he called for a candle to light their way to bed
And when he had her in the room these words to her he said
‘A sovereign I will give to you for to embrace your charms.’
And all that night, that fair young maid lied in the butcher's arms.
Oh, come along with me, love
Come along with me!
Come for one night and be my wife
And come along with me.
Well, about one year later he went roving out once more,
And he went into the tavern where he'd often been before.
He wasn't in there very long when his fair maid he did see,
And she brought forth a baby three months old and placed it on his knee.”
Some of the crowd began to chuckle as they realized where the song was going. Ren’s playing picked up in volume as he reached the punch line. 
“And when he saw the baby, he began to curse and swear
And he said unto that fair young maid, ‘Why did you bring him here?!’
‘Well, he is your own, kind sir’, she said, ‘Do not think me strange
Well, that sovereign that you gave to me, well I gives you back your change!’”
The crowd burst into raucous laughter, and Ren couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as he finished the song.
“Oh, come along with me, love
Come along with me!
Come for one night and be my wife
And come along with me!”
With a flourish he played the last few chords as the crowd’s laughter turned into applause. He gave a bow, and as he stood back up he saw a flash of red dart through the crowd.
“Dammit.” He muttered. 
‘What happened?’ He heard Hope ask. He turned to the crowd.
“Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience!” Ren exclaimed. “Don’t forget to tip your waitresses! If you need me, I’ll be by the bar.”
The crowd quickly went back to their food and drink, and Ren made a beeline for the bar. 
‘I thought you said Esana was sleeping.’ He demanded through the bond. 
‘She was!’ The spirit replied. ‘I thought she was. Oh! But she might have been faking, now that I think about it. The snoring was a bit too loud.’
To which Ren could only groan.
The Maker had to have it out for him. That was the only explanation. 
‘Don’t move, Hope.’ He said. ‘Keep listening in on the Venatori. I want to have something to report back to the Dragons before the night is over.’
“Only one song tonight, Rook?” Asked one of the waitresses, Rosa, as she carried a tray full of food and drink.
“Can’t be helped, Rosa.” He said as he approached the bar. The barkeeper, a jovial older man with a wiry frame and bright eyes named Julius, poured him a glass of water with a knowing grin.
“Loose something?” He asked.
“Ugh.” Was Ren’s articulate response. Julius only laughed as Ren downed the water in one gulp before setting the glass back down on the counter with a thunk.
“You didn’t happen to see which way she went, did you?” Ren asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
“Aye. She snuck out the back door.” 
“Thank you, Julius.”
“Best of luck, Rook!” 
-
Ren stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the cool night air to center himself. He needed to remain calm. Esana couldn’t have gotten far.
In the distance he heard the sound of cheering. Children cheering. He relaxed slightly; he had a feeling whatever was going on, Esana was probably around, if not directly involved.
He followed the sound of cheering until he turned a corner and found himself staring at a veritable horde of children all gathered around a circle. In the middle, playing what looked like a game of bones against an older human boy, was Esana.
“That looks like another game for me!” She exclaimed as she grabbed the copper pieces and put it in her already fairly substantial pile of winnings.
The boy didn’t seem too pleased. 
“That’s not fair!” He cried. “You cheated!”
“How do you cheat at bones, Dax?” One of the other children asked. Dax’s face only grew more red as the other children began to laugh. 
“Yeah, Dax.” Esana taunted as she began to count her winnings. “Don’t be a sore looser.”
“Why you-“
Whatever Dax was about to say was cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the alley. Out of the darkness, a behemoth of a man emerged. He had lank, dark hair that clung to his face and a scar that ran from one side of his neck to the other. He approached the children, most of whom had already scurried away, and sneered at them with yellowing teeth. 
“What do we have here?” The large man asked as he loomed over the children eyeing the pile of money. “You brats got some money for me?”
“No!” Esana cried. “That’s mine!” She stood up, putting herself between the man and the coin. 
Ren could have sworn his heart had stopped beating then, as he watched the giant man loom over his daughter. His daughter, who looked so very small standing in that man’s shadow. Thinking quickly, Ren grabbed a bottle from a nearby drunkard and flicked a coin his way before the man could complain too much.  
“What did you say, little knife ear?” The man sneered as he pulled an out a wicked looking dagger. “Perhaps I should teach you a lesson of what happens when pests like you talk back to your betters.”
Esana’s eyes widened as the knife was held merely inches from her face. The man made to grab her, but before he could do anything, Ren staggered out of the darkness as if drunk, practically barreling into the man. He made a show of spilling the contents of his bottle all over the man’s clothes. 
“M’so sorry, serah.” He said, slurring his words together. “It seems I-“ and he hiccuped here for effect “-I can’t seem to hold me liquor! Can’t seem to carry it neither.”
Ren gave his best drunken laugh as he pointed to the almost empty bottle of booze. Predictably, the man took the bait, grabbing Ren by the collar and shoving him hard against the wall. 
“Stupid elf! I should gut you here and now!” 
Too busy threatening him, the man didn’t notice Ren pull on the Fade, summoning flames in his left hand. 
“Gut me?” Ren asked, feigning innocence. “While you’re on fire?”
The man stared at Ren in confusion before bursting into laughter.
“On fire? You must be drunker than I-“
Suddenly, the man let out an inhuman screech as Ren held the flame against the man’s alcohol drenched clothes, quickly setting them ablaze with a satisfying woosh. The man dropped Ren as he tried to quickly strip off his burning clothes.
Ren, for his part, didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing his daughter, he took off running down the narrow alley. 
They had made it almost halfway back to the Black Swan when he stopped to catch his breath. He looked down at his daughter and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Getting down on one knee he began to look her over.
“Are you alright?” He asked. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. I’m fine.” 
Ren nodded. That would have to do. For now, at least.
Together, father and daughter ran the rest of the way back to the Black Swan. When finally they arrived at the back entrance, the adrenaline seemed to leave Ren all at once, leaving him drained. He sank onto one of the large crates nearby, placing his head in his hands as the reality of what almost happened hit him like a druffalo. 
Esana stood there nervously, sensing, perhaps, that she had crossed a line somewhere. 
“Papa, I’m-“
Ren cut her off. 
“Esana,” he began, frustration filling the void where fear and adrenaline once were, “How many times have I told you that you cannot go out at night on your own?”
“I was just-“
“And yet, you continue to deliberately disobey me. And for what? A handful of coin?”
“It wasn’t just a handful…” she muttered. 
Something inside Ren snapped.
“HE COULD HAVE TAKEN YOU!” Ren shouted as he gripped his daughter’s shoulders desperately. “PAWNED YOU OFF AT THE SLAVE MARKET! OR WORSE, HE COULD HAVE KILLED YOU! DUMPED YOUR BODY SOMEWHERE AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN NONE THE WISER. WOULD THE COIN HAVE BEEN WORTH IT THEN? WELL?”
Hot, angry tears streamed down Esana’s face as she pulled herself out of her father’s grip and ran into the tavern. Ren tried to grab her but she was too quick.
“Esana!” He yelled. “Esana get back here!”
Instead, he heard the sound of a door slamming from upstairs, where the guest rooms were. He looked around the tavern and noticed that it was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers who seemed too deep into their cups to notice the elven family drama going on around them. He also noticed a distinct lack of Venatori. They must have left earlier as well. 
Shit.
With a sigh, Ren felt all of the previous anger bleed out of him, leaving him bone-tired. With great effort, Ren dragged himself to the bar, rubbing at his eyes before anyone could see the moisture in them. 
“Julius,” he called, “Can I have another glass of water, please?”
The barkeep popped out from the kitchen, a bowl of something heavenly smelling in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other.
“I’ll do you one better.” He said, setting the bowl, some sort of stew, in front of Ren. “Here, eat. You look like you’re about to keel over where you stand.”
“Julius, you are a gentleman and a scholar.”
“Yes, yes. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Ren took a few spoonfuls before his appetite left him entirely as the monster currently gnawing at his stomach felt more akin to guilt than hunger. He stirred the soup in lazy circles with his spoon, occasionally making a half-hearted attempt at taking a bite before giving up entirely. 
“I need to go talk to Esana.” He said with a sigh.
“Rook, wait…”
Ren looked up and was surprised to see the old barkeep looking at him with eyes full of understanding… and a bit of sorrow.
“I don’t usually tell people this for obvious reasons, but… my father was also a freeman.” He said. “And an elf, too.”
Ren’s eyes widened. A lot of things about Julius suddenly made sense. The slight build, the bright eyes…
The easiness in which he accepted Ren and Esana… 
He looked at the man in a whole new light then, silently wondering how he never noticed the way Julius’s ears tapered to a point, a tell-tale sign of the man’s heritage.
“I’ll be.” Ren exclaimed. “I’d had no idea I was in the presence of a fellow knife-ear. I’ll make you a flower crown. Maybe even show you some of my favorite places to frolic naked in the moonlight.”
“I am quite capable of going to a whore house on my own, thank you.”
Both men burst into laughter, loud enough in the almost empty tavern to draw the attention of the last remaining guests. The confused stares sobered both men up fairly quickly, and Julius continued whatever point he was getting at.
“Before I was born,” he said, “my father had somehow managed to buy his and my mother’s freedom. Never did quite figure out how he managed to pull it off...”
Julius’s eyes grew distant as he stared at something only he could see. After a moment, he blinked, and turned his attention back to Ren. In all the years he had known the man, Ren had never seen an expression so solemn on his face as he did now.
“When I was Esana’s age, I also never… appreciated the sacrifices my father had made for my family. For me... And Maker, there were so many…”
“And you do now?” Ren asked.
“Aye.” Said Julius. “I do now. Very much so. And I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but Esana will too.”
Ren considered the older man’s words as he took a few more bites of his stew. He pushed himself off of the counter and dusted himself off. 
“Thank you, Julius.” He said. “For everything.”
“Anytime, Rook.“
Ren made his way up the stairs and down the hall to where he and Esana were staying. As quietly as he could, he crept in, closing the door behind him. 
They were fortunate enough to stay in a room with two cots this time, an upgrade to their usual fair. He noticed that the cot on the left was occupied by a relatively Esana sized lump buried underneath the blankets. On the desk , underneath an open window, was a rook. It sat atop a wooden perch as it cleaned its feathers with its long, grey beak. 
Hearing the door close, it looked up and flew over to where Ren sat on the empty cot, silently landing on his knee.
“Hey, Hope.” He uttered.
“…Why is your doublet singed?” Was the spirit’s response.
“Good to see you too.”
“Renan…”
Ren looked down at his doublet, his favorite one too, and, sure enough, he noticed singe marks all long the bottom hem. 
And lo, did the Maker say “Fuck this Elf in particular.” He thought.
“I suppose it does not matter. I am sure it can be fixed.” Hope said kindly. Then, through the bond, he heard: ‘Esana was very upset, but she would not tell me what happened.’
‘She decided to pick fights with grown men and then I lost my temper and yelled at her.’
‘Ah. I see.’
Hope climbed up Ren’s arm to perch on his shoulder.
“I think I am going to go out.” She announced. “Stretch my wings for a bit.”
“Have fun.”
Hope rubbed up against his cheek affectionately, nuzzling him much like she had when he was a boy, newly arrived in the Tevinter Imperium and being sold off like chattel.
‘You can fix this.’ He heard her say through the bond. 
With that, Hope flew out the open window and into the warm summer’s night, leaving father and daughter alone to talk. After a minute or two of sitting silently in the dark, Ren spoke.
“I know you’re awake, Esana.” He said. “Can we talk? Please?”
A loud sniffle from underneath the covers was the only response he got. With a sigh, Ren pulled off his boots and set them neatly by his bedside table.
“It’s ok, Esana. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He said as he took off his now singed doublet. “I’ll talk then, ok?”
Ren took a moment to gather his thoughts. He stared down at his hands, looking at the small knicks and callouses from years of playing the lute. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, and let the loose sleeves reveal old scar tissue across his wrists from where too-heavy shackles had rubbed his skin raw years ago. They certainly weren’t pretty, which was part of the reason why he always covered them, but they weren’t the worst of his scars. He knew his back was a gnarled web of lash marks, fifty in total. They still ached from time to time, too…
He made a vow, long ago, that the Imperium would never hurt him, or his loved ones, ever again. And he intended to keep that promise.
“I love you, Esana.” He said, finally. “And I am very sorry that I yelled at you like I did. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
In the darkness, Ren saw two bright blue eyes (her mother’s eyes, he thought distantly) peek out from underneath the covers, watching him warily. Taking that as progress, he continued.
“The truth is, I was scared. What you did was incredibly dangerous. I truly thought that man was going to hurt you, and that terrified me.”
Esana crawled out from underneath the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over and refusing to look anywhere but her bare feet. Ren noticed that she was already in her nightgown. She must have changed after she stormed upstairs. 
With a small smile, Ren patted the empty space beside him in invitation. Esana quickly crossed the short distance to sit with her father, but still refused to look up at him, even after he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his side. 
“I just wanted to help.” She said miserably, swiping at her eyes as fresh tears  began to fall. “I thought that if I could earn money like you do, then you would let me join you for once.” 
“Esana…”
“I just wanted to be like you. I’m tired of being treated like a baby.”
Ren tucked an errant lock of red hair behind his daughter’s ear. 
“Esana,” he said, “I don’t need you to be like me. In fact, that’s the last thing in the world I want you to be. And while I appreciate the help, I’m your father. It’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.” 
“But I want to help!” Esana cried, almost desperately. “I want to be out there, with you!”
Ren chewed his bottom lip as he pondered Esana’s words. He certainly did not want to expose her to the drunks of Minrathous, but he also knew that soon she would be turning thirteen. Too old to stay willingly cloistered away. Maybe he could bring her along every now and then, introduce her little by little to his world in a way where he could monitor her and keep her safe, rather than having her go out behind his back…
Still, he couldn’t help but feel he was missing something. Something important. There was a frantic edge to Esana’s pleading that Ren couldn’t understand. Not for the first time, Ren wished his wife were still alive. Leena would have known what to do. She was good at that sort of thing.
“I’ll tell you what,” Ren began, cupping his daughter’s chin gently, “how about I teach you how to play that spare flute I have? Then, you could play with me. Sometimes.”
Esana stared up at her father with wide, disbelieving eyes. 
“Sometimes!” He reiterated. “Only the jobs that I think are safe, ok?”
“Really?” she asked, excitement and a strange tinge of something akin to relief shining in her eyes.
“Yes.” Ren laughed. “Really.”
Esana launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug which he returned without a thought. 
“I love you, papa.” She said.
“I love you, too, Esana.”
Not long after Ren noticed his daughter’s eyelids grow heavy and her shoulders begin to droop. He chuckled as he watched her try to stifle a yawn.
“Alright little Nuglette, I think that’s enough excitement for one day. To bed with you.” 
“Ok, papa.” Esana murmured sleepily as she crawled back into her own cot. Suddenly, that frantic edge that Ren noticed earlier returned.
“Papa…” she said, “Could I stay in your cot? Until I fall asleep?”
“Sure.” Ren said with a small smile.
Esana quickly scurried from her cot to join her father. She snuggled herself up against him, and he felt her relax as if she had been holding in some sort of tension. 
“Esana,” Ren asked as she tucked herself in the crook of his arm, “Is everything alright?”
Esana hastily nodded, not quite looking her father in the eye. Ren sighed.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
Another nod. 
“Ok. Good night, Esana. Sweet dreams.”
Ren didn’t notice Esana wince at the mention of dreams. He didn’t notice his daughter squeeze her eyes shut, desperately trying not to think of the monsters in her dreams that hounded her, begging her to let them in. 
Instead Ren began to sing softly, voice barely above a whisper as he sang an old Elvish lullaby, one that his own mother sang to him when he was little. It didn’t take long for Esana to drift off into the Fade. No nightmares plagued her this time, safe as she was in her father’s arms and a song promising only pleasant things echoing in her ears. 
For Ren, however, sleep evaded him despite his exhaustion. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t mind and was content to watch the rise and fall of Esana’s chest as his daughter slept soundly, snuggled up against him. Truth be told, he cherished moments such as these because he knew that sooner rather than later, his daughter would grow too old to cuddle with her papa. For now, though, he placed a kiss upon his little girl’s brow and held her as tightly as he could without waking her.
He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, only that it was near dawn when Hope flew in through the window, the first rays of light gently reflecting off of her feathers, giving them a purplish hue. 
“Morning, Hope.” Whispered Ren as he watched her land on the bedside table. 
“Good morning, Renan.” She whispered back. “I am happy to see you two worked it out.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Ren shifted slightly to face his friend. “You were gone an awfully long time. Did something happen?”
“I ran into Neve Gallius. She would like you to meet her later this evening.” 
“Ah… and what did our favorite Ice Queen want? Did she say?”
“Only that she would like to introduce you to an aquantence of hers. Some sort of… novelist?”
“Of course she does…” Ren murmured tiredly, not really paying attention. 
They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the silence of the early morning. Ren was just about to finally drift off to sleep when Hope looked up from where she was preening her feathers and stared out of the window with an unusually concerned expression.
“Renan…” she whispered, so quietly Ren barely heard her. 
“Mmm?”
“There is a storm coming.” Was all she said.
-
Little did Ren know, as he later found himself staring up at the terrifying visages of his Dalish mother's myths, how true those words were about to become. 
6 notes · View notes