#not sure how they get letters in the lighthouse

[ramblinganthropologist]

The saddest thing to come out of Veilguard so far is apparently Trevy and Scout Harding broke up after inquisition.

Poor Trevy. Maybe she'll find someone nice to settle down with and teach mage kids at her magic school.

[mosoderbergh]

So one more Emmrich headcanon because I can't with this guy

Two things I think about Emmrich are

1) that he has a keen sense of smell. Not always ideal when you work around corpses a lot, but that just means he has a collection of tinctures, balms, perfumes, maybe even scented candles he's collected over the years. He's experimented with how to best mask certain smells, which scents go well together etc.

2) I think when him and Rook first start dating, he's still quite hung up trying to prove that he's not just some horny old man (Rook would be into that, too, but hey). He wants to prove to Rook that he cares. And he notices Rook is working themselves to the bone.

Both of these would culminate, I think, in a little surprise for Rook. I think Emmrich would prepare a bath for them - with no intention at all of getting in there with them. But he's noticed a certain scent around them. Maybe they have a favourite perfume. Maybe a favourite flower. Maybe they just really love a certain fruit or candy.

So Emmrich would leave on "urgent business" to the Necropolis one evening. A few hours later, Manfred would come to Rook's door, all excited. And Rook would let themselves be guided away, already sensing the next crisis. But then they'd get to a new door and it would be this cozy little room with a giant bath, a crackling fireplace tucked away somewhere (I love the idea of a bathhouse somewhere in the lighthouse). A bath has already been drawn, and it smells *amazing*. Rook's favourite scent, delicately interwoven with whatever other notes suit it best. Manfred presses a cup of tea into Rook's hands and looks between them and the bath expectantly. (Emmrich has had to explain how baths work to Manfred in great detail. "It would be proper to leave once you've offered them tea. No, *no*, you will not need to help them undress. I'm sure they're quite capable.")

There would, of course, be a letter from Emmrich on the tea tray.

My dear,

I couldn't help but notice how you've been over-exerting yourself lately. You are well due a break. I have taken the liberty of asking Neve to take note, should anything come up in your absence. For now, the evening is yours. If you feel up to a little outing later, it would be my honour to take you out to dinner.

Yours,

Emmrich

P.S.: I fear you may have to ask Manfred to leave the room for your bath. I've tried to make this clear to him, but he is quite fond of you and he still struggles with privacy as a concept.

There is an itinerary and the infamous menu with gilded edges attached to the letter. Rook gives it to Manfred to play with, so he has something to do while they enjoy their bath. They keep the letter, though. They read it over and over again, grinning from ear to ear. They only put it away once they accidentally get a splash of water on it. By the time the dinner happens, they are a) relaxed to their very core and b) absolutely gagging for it because that is the hottest thing anyone has ever done for them.

[sky-scribbles]

Party Banter with Rook!Blackwall

Harding: You know, for a moment back there, I thought you might actually get through to Solas.

Thom: Regret’s something we have in common. I thought… if I reached out to him, told him I understood what guilt drives you to do…

Harding: But no. ‘Do not compare your regrets with mine, Thom Rainier!’

Thom: He’s right, though. He can at least say he did his crimes trying to stop tyrants. I did mine for coin.

Harding: Uh, yeah, and then you faced up to it and decided no one else was going to get hurt for it except you. Solas is right. He’s nothing like you.

—

Lucanis: Do we have a problem, Warden Rainier?

Thom: You kill people. For gold.

Lucanis: I do. Venatori. Blood mages. The political rivals of those who hired me.

Thom: And that’s enough for you? Someone flashes a purse, and you’re ready to murder over some nobles’ spat over which of them gets the bigger fancy house?

Lucanis: Depends on the size of the purse.

—

Bellara: Um, so, about the mayor of D'Meta's Crossing? I just… do you really want someone like that? In the Wardens, I mean.

Thom: I won’t defend him. But he wouldn’t be the first Warden who let innocent people die for gold, and got another chance from the Order.

Bellara: He doesn’t deserve it. Like, really, really doesn’t deserve it.

Thom: No. Neither did I.

—

Thom: Do you ever get people trying to bribe you? To look the other way, or drop a case, or...

Neve: It's Minrathous. If I took even half the bribes I've been offered, I could buy an estate in Hightown.

Thom: It takes a special kind of strength to resist that.

—

Thom: I got a letter from Sera the other day. Don’t ask me how she got it to the Lighthouse.

Harding: ‘Friends’, I bet. And hey - she dealt with the Fade for you! So what'd she say?

Thom: Well, there was a lot of calling Solas a shite-faced arseknuckle. And then she told me not to get killed, or she’d yank my beard ‘til my head came off.

Harding: Aw.

—

Lucanis: Rainier, I do not knife civilians. Everyone I have killed has been embedded in politics. Their hands are never clean.

Thom: And you're sure you’ve never made a mistake? Never got a passer-by or a child caught in all the blades and arrows? Never gone in without knowing everything, and got someone hurt?

Lucanis: Of course not. I’m a professional.

Thom: You’re a mercenary with a cape.

—

Thom: You could’ve left Dock Town. A mage. Talented. You could’ve gone anywhere, chased a better life.

Neve: If I left, I’d be abandoning people who never got that choice. I’m good where I’m at.

Thom: I hope you know how admirable that makes you.

Neve: Not that admirable. If I got that estate in Hightown? Too far to walk to Hal’s fish stand.

Thom: (laughs) Good priorities.

—

Davrin: So, Rainier. Heard a lot of rumours about how you joined the Wardens.

Thom: (uneasy noise) You know, Warden Blackwall told me your past gets forgotten after the Joining.

Davrin: A nice ideal, but it never stands up to the gossip. But you’ve shown your worth.

Thom: Enough for me to have one of those griffons when we rescue them, d’you reckon?

Davrin: (laughs) We’ll see.

—

Thom: I knew someone like Manfred once. He was a spirit, but he sort of… grew his own body.

Emmrich: Oh! A spontaneous incarnation! Do you happen to know what kind of spirit he was?

Thom: Uh… the kind that looks like a young man, but reads minds and flits about trying to make everyone feel better about themselves?

Emmrich: Ah, Compassion! A rather more advanced emotion than Curiosity, and therefore capable of manifesting a physical body, rather than needing to adopt a vacant one.

Thom: More advanced? Right. That explains why Cole used to talk to me about living with the weight of regret, and Manfred spent ten minutes yesterday poking my face to see if my beard came off.

—

Neve: So, you know Dorian?

Thom: Does anyone who’s been in the same room as him for thirty seconds get a choice about knowing Dorian?

Neve: And didn’t always get along, I take it.

Thom: He’s… he’s not so bad. We might’ve judged each other by first impressions back when we met.

Neve: And what’s your impression now?

Blackwall: Still too fancy for his own good. But it says exactly who he is that he’s fighting against slavers and blood mages. I think I got the better deal with the darkspawn.

—

Taash: I heard the Inquisitor turned into a dragon.

Thom: No, she… didn’t. But she did get one to fight with us once.

Taash: She did? What kind? How’d she do it?

Thom: Sort of… gold? And she drank from this pool of elven magic, and… that somehow let her ask it to help us. I think.

Taash: Did she ride it into battle?

Thom: Uh… No.

Taash: Oh. I would’ve ridden it into battle.

—

Thom: Emmrich, do you know what those demons were the other day? The ones that wouldn’t leave me alone?

Emmrich: Ah. Those were manifestations of Shame. A variant of the Despair spirit.

Thom: Right. Don’t know what I expected.

Emmrich: If it’s any consolation, I find that one can tell much more about a person from the more benign spirits that gather around them. I catch glimpses of them about you often. Valour. Fortitude. Honour.

Thom: I hope to be worthy of them.

—

Thom: Lucanis, have you ever regretted any of your kills?

Lucanis: Not so far.

Thom: So this is what you’re fine with being? A man who takes nobles’ money and lives in luxury with your bloodied hands? That's the life you chose?

Lucanis: Not ‘chose’, exactly. It is what I was trained to be since my childhood.

Thom: Wait. You were – who trains a child to be an assassin?

Lucanis: You met my grandmother.

—

Davrin: You held up pretty well in the last fight, Rainier. For an old man.

Thom: Whelp like you’d better watch what he says around a senior Warden.

Davrin: Why? You’ll tell me to do the fifty press-ups that your creaky bones can’t handle?

Thom (laughs) I’ll stop letting you borrow my best chisel.

—

Bellara: Hey, um, Thom? You know that little rocking griffon you made? Could you make, I don’t know, a bigger one? Like… adult… person-sized?

Thom: (chuckles) You never have a rocking griffon growing up?

Bellara: No! They’re not a Dalish thing! Because you can’t really rock. When the aravel’s moving, I mean. So… no, it’s a dumb idea. Forget I said anything.

Thom: You want me to make it a rocking halla?

Bellara: Yes please thank you.

—

Emmrich: How far you must have travelled, with both the Inquisition and the Wardens!

Thom: I like being on the road. Keeps a man honest.

Emmrich: I rather envy your fearlessness of the wider world. It’s so recent that the end of the Circles allowed me to travel freely outside the Necropolis.

Thom: Must have been freeing. Having the whole world suddenly open to you.

Emmrich: And rather overwhelming, I must admit. When I compare myself to you – a brave Warden, combatting the Blight across all of Thedas…

Thom: Trust me: compare the two of us, and that’s the only way I’ll come out better from it.

—

Thom: We fought quite a few dragons in the Inquisition. Almost got eaten once by some pissed-off beast in the Hinterlands. Kept throwing its dragonlings at us.

Taash: Fereldan Frostbacks are crappy mothers. First sign of trouble, and it’s ‘here! Take my children!’

Thom: (laughs) The worst was the lightning-spitter off the Storm Coast. Spent twenty minutes hacking away at its scales, rest of my team unconscious on the ground.

Taash: Wait - you what? That's not how you fight dragons. You can't just stand there and hit them. That's stupid. And boring.

—

Lucanis: It’s how the Crow Houses work. Children of the House lineage are trained from our infancy.

Thom: Andraste’s fucking tits.

Lucanis: It’s necessary. If Illario and I had been coddled… Caterina pushed us hard and young, because she wanted us to survive.

Thom: I don’t… (sighs) The things people do to children.

—

Harding: I never thought to ask - how come Varric changed your nickname?

Thom: I asked him to go with something else. 'Hero'... that was a name he gave to Blackwall.

Harding: Well, he chose the right name. You know, 'cause Rooks move in straight lines. And you charge right in there, don't mess around with fancy words, just hit things til they drop. You could say you're -

Thom: Don't do it, Lace.

Harding: Straightforward.

Thom: (chuckles) You're as bad as Sera.

—

Emmrich: Master Rainier, I wanted to say – I hope you know that you’re the only person here who looks at you with any harshness.

Thom: I – (sighs) You don’t know everything about me.

Emmrich: I would never claim to. But I know that you place yourself before your allies and the defenceless without hesitation and with utter selflessness. I know you understand your Warden oath better than many of your superiors. I know that you are a good man.

Thom: … I wish I knew what it was like to be you. Seeing the good in everyone, living or dead.

Emmrich: Then I hope you’ll permit me continue to see the good in you – until you can see yourself as I do.

[aquamarinemarie]

(This ask is in good faith)

I do think that most people criticizing the way games present solavellan (not how shippers interpret it but what’s factually in the game) say it’s meh because so much is not said or implied. That’s where it falls flat for me. I fear offering nothing but “he occasionally watches them through dreams” and extremely vague things at the Lighthouse contributes to the implicit “this feels very onesided and empty”, given they spent less than a year dating and ten years apart with visually no explicit contact. Or even keepsakes.

I honestly think most people who are very "meh" about solavellan as a whole were never truly into it to begin with; and that's fair. If the couple isn't appealing then it just isn't appealing.

For me, the content presented in both games (Inquisition and Veilguard), plus the Trespasser DLC was enough. In Veilguard specifically, solavellan gets quite a lot considering how the inquisitor was no longer the main protagonist. In such a reduced role, I knew to keep my expectations in check. Lavellan discussing her feelings with Rook was a welcome surprise, and I'm sure the writers felt a bit freer putting words into her mouth than Solas'. People, I think, tend to forget that this Lavellan is an inquisitor who chose to continue loving Solas during Trespasser and to not give up on him. So, in my opinion, her feelings for him in Veilguard really shouldn't have taken anyone by surprise. Nor, frankly, is she putting him first. It's save the world - then save Solas. So, I don't agree, as others have suggested, that Lavellan is simply being a lovesick fool here. She knows she might have to let him go, and is willing to make such a sacrifice. Even if it hurts her.

Now, from Solas' side of the relationship - I believe what we were presented with in Veilguard ultimately remained true to his character. He's a private person after all and isn't exactly the type to shout his love for her from the rooftops. A single letter reaffirming his love for Lavellan and his desire/wish to live his life with her, a reluctant admission of how much he cherishes his regretful & ultimately selfish relationship with her (more than some of his victories in fact), and of course, Solas & Lavellan's reunion in the final act. That they get to be together always. This is so much more than I ever expected to receive from Veilguard - and honestly I'm grateful. I thought they'd kill Solas in the end - that there wouldn't be any redemption.

To address the years of separation, the games tell us Solas occasionally spies on Lavellan in her dreams, and it explicitly reminds us (via the letter) that he truly wants to be with her. There is also strong implication within Trespasser & Veilguard to suggest Solas feels he doesn't deserve forgiveness and that he may even desire his own death.

"I walk the Din'anshiral. There is only death on this journey. I would not have you see what I become." - Solas

I don't think it a stretch of the imagination to believe Solas did not expect to survive tearing down the veil. That the act alone would cost him his life. If not physically then perhaps figuratively. Since deliberately ending the lives of most of the world's population would be an act beyond redemption.

Levallan for the last eight years has spent much of her time trying to find a way to change Solas' mind. She cannot even gaze upon her own reflection without being reminded of the man who removed her vallaslin. (If the player chose to allow this to occur.) Her keepsake is the vallaslin removal. She continues to reside within his castle and sleeps in the very bedroom that was likely his own. She couldn't put him from her mind even if she wanted to.

In conclusion, I've never needed headcanon to support Solas & Lavellan as a couple. The games give us plenty. Nor, have I ever had a problem with anyone who finds the pairing boring or just not to their taste. With that being said, I do believe many who insist the relationship is hollow or entirely one-sided, either say so in bad faith or just haven't been paying attention.

I don't mind engaging with critics (those who are polite anyway) and I appreciate you messaging me. I hope some of what I've written here helps make solavellan seem a little less... meh. If not, well, different strokes for different folks.

[reignpage]

South District, Gibraltar 9th Februarius Day 1 2:30pm

I arrived exactly 1 hour and 5 minutes ago. The journey was smooth, as expected. The weather, upon arrival, however, was somewhat of a shock — it is far more humid in the Strait of Gibraltar than I had anticipated, and certainly none of the travel guides here warned me of the flurry it inflicts upon one's hair. Haibara would surely mock me for the upturns locks of my hair had decided to take.

There was one person who greeted me, thanks to St. E's pastoral support: an old fisherman who owns a lighthouse by the sea. That is where I am staying. The place is not too bad. I have everything I need:

A bed

A kitchen

A window (a large one at that which provides a clear view of the sea)

A desk

A man shan't want for more. Certainly not a man like me, with one goal in mind: find Atlantis. I have been warned countless times, by own supervisor no less, to accept the possibility of disappointment and whilst, yes, my rational mind is aware of that, the scholar in me must not let history weaken my resolve.

Other people's shortcomings are no reflection of my potential for success. No one seems to understand how serious I am of this. So serious, in fact, I have already taken myself on a tour around town. The landscape is impressive — there are many beautiful architectures of times passed, though they're not in use, to see them standing with no magical support (as none naturally exist in this world) is awe-inspiring.

Many of the locals thought me an oddity, I imagine. A man, or rather a 'boy' (I hate to be referred as such but it is quite fitting) in a uniform of a school they do not have here. Of course, they know of St. Eden and Genesis but this town has been largely left alone by the Supreme Collective and, from my own research into the world I am to cohabit, it does not seem like they have ever sent a student off to study at our academy.

None of them seemed particularly friendly but they weren't hostile either. In the case that things do turn awkward, as I've been warned can happen, I am well-equipped with my many potions, tonics, elixirs and endless spells and enchantments so that I may sustain myself for the rest of my stay here.

However, I would like to build rapport. I suspect I cannot do this on my own and gaining access to their expert understanding of the land will be vital. Of course, one cannot expect to gain their full trust immediately so I will take it step by step, naturally.

The fisherman, who goes by the name of Antonio, had gruffly told me that I'm not the first person who's come here looking for Atlantis. He said there haven't been any St. Eden students in many centuries and he thought he had seen the last of us, but of course we 'never know when to give it a rest.'

That was the most apt description of St. E students I've ever heard. I've heard 'annoying' from old hags who believe we are running them out of business, 'ugly' from trolls who clearly have different beauty standards, and 'pest-like' from your average Genesis citizen since we can be, after all, quite careless when in pursuit of some academic goal we've set for ourselves.

Still, Antonio didn't strike me as a bad person. No, there was something hidden under those thick wrinkles. Something akin to disappointment. Perhaps that we students waste our time searching for glory where none can be found — that is just my guess.

The journey had taken somewhat of a toll on me. I will need rest until dinner time when I am to join Antonio and his wife in the bottom floor of the lighthouse at 6pm every evening. Apparently, they get a tetradrachm a day for housing me, which is quite generous of St. Eden, but they deserve it, I'm sure.

I will nap, dine, and then I will send a letter off to Professor Yaga letting him know I am well and are getting situated just fine. Then, early tomorrow, I will begin my research.

There is something in the wind. I can tell I'm in the right place.

[mythals-whore]

WIP Word game

THE RULES ARE: You get a word (or in my case, seven words) and you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

@basedonconjecture @hyperions-light @jouskaroo @rookamell @thedissonantverses & @seaglassmelody (shoutout to @becausedragonage who Dm'd me a word also)

I am genuinely giggling & kicking my feet to be thought of so many times. Luckily for all of us I have a hefty WIP folder and wordcount. But! To make this fun for me I've pulled from all my WIPs and I'm not going to tell you which ones.

FATES

F - Fingers thrusting roughly into the hair at Harding's nape, tugging some of it loose from its careful braids. She doesn't seem to mind, moaning breathily into Taash's mouth like she had dreamed this and can't quite believe it's happening.

A - And he’s never enjoyed a chase more than this one—though he considers that maybe it’s because he’s never sure he has her. Even now.

T - “The Viper.” She says, extending a delicate hand and a sultry smile.

E - Even the candles aren’t lit, as if the Lighthouse itself knows what the others won’t accept. Rook isn’t coming back.

S - She tries to blink away the burning in her eyes. Her chest. "I can’t afford to make the mistake you did."

VIPER

V - Viper,

I did manage to stop by that tea shop, thank you for the recommendation. I was able to place a regular order for the jasmine blend you requested. Tested it out myself while I was there. Sweeter than I expected, but reliable.

I - Instead, tears start rolling heavily down her face. And then Davrin is on his knees in front of her, reaching for her without even a moment’s hesitation. The moment he touches her, the breath she attempts to take turns into a sob and the tears start sliding down her face in earnest.

P - Purposeful and thorough in the way Davrin always is. And there’s something in it, this kiss. Some promise that she’s not yet ready for.

E - Even if thinking it hones the wanting into something so sharp it carves something out of her. Something that she knows is no longer hers, anyway.

R - Real panic starts to rise in her throat then. She would not die without a fight. She would not die like this, she would not allow that future she’d seen to pass, not any version of it.

WOUND

W - Whatever it takes. The trouble is that she knows how hollow victory rings when the chasm left by loss is too deep to hear it.

O - One that she hopes conveys it all: I’m here. You’re safe with me. 

U - Usually he marveled at it, but now it made him frantic with the need to know what it was that she was thinking.

N - Not a cathedral like this, but a smaller chantry. Three pews deep and a candelabra with chipped gold paint. It’d been brief, and she stood uncertainly at the back while he knelt at that altar.

D - "Did you love me?" She knows exactly why she asks the question. Knows why her heart leaps into her throat. Still she can't bring herself to look at him, though she feels his wide eyes. Sees his mouth open and close again from the corner of her eye.

KALEIDESCOPE

K - Knowing that she wanted him, knowing what she tasted like—it was unbearable.

A - As she floats toward them, the slightly puffed sleeves that hang off her shoulders flow up and down, almost like the beating of great wings. Her hair is long and loose, but pulled back from her face with golden combs.

L - Lyria is gathering that he’s quite angry with her, but can’t quite figure out why.

“If you were one of my men, I’d have you demoted—and sitting in the brig for a week at least.”

E - Either because the woman shows almost no fear in the face of old gods and fish freak her out or because he still can’t quite believe that she’s tucked herself into his bed with the intent to sleep there.

I - It’s different, somehow, to watch him undress himself.

S - She is not just another polished little piece on their board, some play thing that they can simply use and discard. And though he knew they needed her to be, he hated it all the same.

C - Cullen immediately wishes for any way to erase it—to even take it from her for a moment.

O - One of her hands was pressed against her face and her mouth hung slightly open. She looked so young lying there—much too young to have the weight of all Thedas on her shoulders

P - Part of a set he's been working on quietly. Battered, but still intact.

E - Especially as he pulls the first boot off, and presses a rather chaste kiss to the inside of her ankle before starting work on the other.

MAGIC

M - "My wife is never wrong." a warm smile curls his lip, throwing the scar there into sharp relief, "She won’t let Rook stay lost."

A - And Taash has yet to meet another Lord who can even comprehend the word prude.

G - Growing up in the magisterium, paraded around constantly, he’d grown used to donning a bland, pleased expression. He’d learned to staunch most of his tells. But those bright green eyes flicking over him unabashedly is almost enough to make him blush. Ashur is grateful for the mask covering his face.

I - "I’m never going to catch a break with you, am I?" Davrin asks, brushing her hair from her face with a sigh. A sly smile slides across her mouth, "You need breaks now?"

C - Cyrilla Mercar, so plagued by pain and loss. Second guessing yourself at every turn."

LUCID

L - Like they’re two threads finally being woven together.

U - Until last night, he thought such stories were mere exaggerations. He recalls a time he would have thought a loss of control like that reason enough for the circle to exist, but now he felt a sort of smug satisfaction over it. The commander did quite like winning, and he couldn’t deny that those rolls of thunder certainly sounded like victory.

C - Clearly grieving and eager to throw herself into her work, but for a spymaster who deals in secrets, she was…unexpected. Sharp and shrewd, yes. But there was another side to her, too. A part of her that wanted to be warm and soft. 

I - "I can’t afford to make the mistake you did."

D - "Did it hurt, like—?"

BISCUIT

B - Beneath the silken buttons, some inner corset is laced. He clears his throat again, hesitating. “Do you want me to…?”

I - If you betray us again—betray her—there is nowhere you can go, Dread Wolf, that I will not find you.

S - Sick burns Cullen’s throat, because he understands immediately.

C - Cullen manages to spin her once, and her eyes crinkle warmly, even letting out a short, breathy laugh.

It may be the most valuable thing Cullen was ever given in his life.

U - Unnecessary, because when her clothing is discarded his hands are immediately sliding over her thighs, like he never wants it to stop, either.

I - “I only had to kill one guy.” she shrugs.

“Jesus, Cyri—”

T - "Then you get to do what you always wanted: save the world all on your own."

I am tagging @sugar-peanut-cat @the-sparrohawk @gingervitus and anyone else who hasn't done this already, please do this please tag me. Your word is LANGUISH (and/or RECONCILE)

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

While You're Camping

Agi sends Emmrich a letter while he's off camping with Harding, and he has a moment. Or two. NSFW.

Dearest Emmrich,

You’re currently camping with Harding. I hope you’re enjoying yourself, love. Remember, try new things!

Because while you’ve been away, I’ve been trying new things.

In fact, I tried that lovely little toy you bought me.

I thought of you---your weight on top of me, my hands in your hair, marking my neck for all to see. It drives me positively wild, Emm.

I thought of you whispering sweet things to me, in that cooing little voice of yours. You’re always so gentle and kind…

But then, as it always does, you snap.

You plow into me. You growl that I’m yours and you’re mine. You suck on my tits and tell me how pretty and good I am for you.

And you know I eat it up, love.

I thought of you as I clenched around nothing and wanted it to be your gorgeous cock. After all, my beautiful Emmrich, only that part of you can truly fill me. That’s not to say your fingers aren’t wonderful. They most certainly are.

But your manhood is truly special, handsome.

I’m thinking of you right now.

I hope you’re thinking of me.

Love,

Agi

***

Emmrich stared at the letter in his hands, a pale pink blush painting his cheeks. While he had received (and written far more) love letters in his day, the professor did not expect my sweet darling girl to be so forward and vulgar.

He exhaled sharply, a growing tightness in his trousers becoming more noticeable by the second.

She did say she hopes I’m thinking of her.

The flaps of his tent were closed, so he did not have that to worry about.

Sound, however…

With the wave of a hand, he placed a sound dampening enchantment around him and then went to work, undoing his trousers more quickly than he would have under normal circumstances.

There she is, dearest Agnes.

He imagined her standing in his bedroom at home in Nevarra City (I’ll take you there soon, my sweet) wearing the dark purple lingerie she recently purchased.

Look at you, my good girl. Hair slightly mussed. A half-hearted attempt at lipstick. Thighs squished together when they should be squishing my head.

She whispered that she missed him, kissing along his jaw as her hands pushed his trousers down. She begged him to touch her, kiss her, make her feel loved…

To ravish her as she desires.

“Darling, I beg of you. Take your rightful place on your throne.”

In his fantasy, Emmrich discarded the rest of his clothes and lay down on his bed. In his tent, he moaned, stroking his erect member just the way I like. He imagined her blushing and shyly getting onto the bed, and with a giggle, swung a long, plush leg (I’ve written several poems about her gorgeous legs) over his head.

“Love, are you sure? I don’t want to—”

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down so that her cunt was nearly touching his mouth. “I need you, my love. Please. Let me taste you properly.”

And then he devoured her.

Her hands were on the headboard as she rode his face, nonsensical praise flowing from her.

And speaking of flowing…

Ugh.

With a loud groan, he came far too soon and spilled over his abdomen.

A frustrated growl emerged from him as he waved a hand and muttered a spell to clean himself. “Damnit, how am I meant to pleasure her if I can’t last…”

Get yourself together, man.

***

Emmrich was genuinely happy to be back at the Lighthouse the following day. Back to my comforts…and my love! She’s here! “Darling!”

Agnes Aldwir was in his library, perusing the fiction bookshelf. Wearing a delightful sleeveless white dress with sunflowers. “Emm! How are you? Did you and Harding have fun?” She turned quickly and approached him, the calf-length dress flowing beautifully…like her. She looks so beautiful. My dearest heart, I adore you. Please, sweetest lady, I beg of you…

Dropping his bags, they hit the floor as he cupped her face and kissed her soundly. “Sit on my face, Agi darling. Please.”

She barely held back a laugh between kisses, grinning against his lips. “Enjoyed my letter, did you?” Agnes teased; her generous bosom pressed against his clothed chest. “I hoped so, love.”

“More than. I thought of—” He purred, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks.

Shuffling of boots.

A friendly hiss.

“Manfred!” Emmrich cried as he released Agnes and turned quickly to greet his companion, she burst out laughing. “Oh Manfred, I’m so happy to see you too!”

He and Agi will want to hear about camping.

Later though…

Be ready, my darling girl.

Your throne eagerly awaits you.

[pixiedurango]

Hey, so I saw your letter ask post and it's an amazing idea! Your letters look so good 😍!! I was wondering if you would in interested, please, in doing one between Teia and Lucanis where Teia absolutely has picked up on the love/desire/connection between lucanis and Rook and she's trying to subtlety encourage/ get info out of Lucanis because aside from spite, teia is rookanis biggest shipper and no one can convince me otherwise 🤣! Thanks 😊

Yay, you have sent my first ever request for the Antivan Postal Service. Thank you so much.

I went with a f!rook without any other specifications, I hope that is OK. Here we go, I really hope you like it <3

Transcript:

Lucanis,

forgive me, but the day I’ll address you as 1st Talon in a private letter, I might throw myself into the canals from the big bell tower.

I just wanted to check in with you. Sending something else than operation missives, contract matters and reports. Some cozy Antivan hospitality within those lines to give you a glimpse of home. And a taste, see the crate attached - you will find an assortment of the finest delicacies Treviso has to offer.

Ah, she sends gifts… what does she want? I don’t need to see you, to know what you are thinking right now. But can a fellow Crow, a Talon even, of a somewhat alligned House not just look after you to see how you are doing? You’ve been away for so long, even before the… you know what. And upon return, you just stumbled into the worst of literally everything…

Just let me assure you that things are calming down around here and once you will return home, you’ll find your Crows in immaculate shape. We know, that Caterina will take care of that, but not alone, as Vi and I are here to have your back. And that’s not sucking up to my boss, but as I see it the only chance we have is unity if what we seek is stability and a thriving Treviso, a thriving Antiva once this whole ‘killing the old gods and stopping the end of world’ thing is over and dealt with.

How is life at the lighthouse? We really need to drop by soon for a meetup and a tour. I’m dying to see how it is to live in the Fade. Aren’t these crazy times? Casually speaking of visiting friends in the Fade where they live. If I would not be part of this whole story I wouldn’t believe it if someone told me!

Speaking of crazy… How’s Rook doing? She works so hard. And yet she always has a smile and a kind word. I wonder where she got THAT from. Unlikely from Viago. And she got you your smile back, too! You thought I would not notice, right? But its clear to see that you are beaming. More every time we meet.

I’m not saying it’s her (alone) that brought your smile back. Purpose, a contract, some successes along the way, friends… all this does wonders for you.

But from the day, that you begged me to not flirt with your “colleague” I knew there was something between the both of you. You might not even have realized yourself then, but I KNEW. And don’t you shake your head on reading this, I know what I know. Rook is not only a pleasure to look at, but she is also smart, loyal, funny and, you can’t deny it - good for you.

Don’t you worry, I may not have many secrets in front of your nonna, excuse me, Caterina - but this one will stay between me and you (and Rook). Viago of course is as oblivious of social cues as ever, so you don't have to worry on that front, either.

Be assured, you can explore this surely exciting events in your private life without the worry, of becoming the cover story of the Treviso gazettes. Your secret is safe with me. This said, just know that I’d love to hear everything you want to tell me about it, but of course I know I’m talking into the Fade here…. Quite literally.

So, nothing more to say but: Enjoy your gift box, I recommend the bottle of good old red together with some of the tapas in the sealed basket. I’m sure, Rook will love them too.

Always yours - Teia

[mollfie]

I took notes while playing and I've tried to edit them into something that makes a shred of sense.

Things I like in Veilguard:

Banter can be interrupted, and they'll continue talking. If you repeatedly interrupt, they'll start over from the beginning later on.

The banter also actually made me laugh, especially with certain companion combos. Not always but more often than not.

The companions aren't stuck in their room. You know when someone wants to talk to you or has a cutscene, but you'll also see them hanging out with other companions or just checking out places around the Lighthouse. Makes them feel like actual people with their own stuff going on outside of Rook. But I do wish you could talk to them more. I like bothering my companions. I'm fine with them repeating themselves. Just let me smooch my love interest or chat with my friends and get random flavour text. Is that so much to ask?

I like the orb and smashing enemies in the face with it. I actually prefer it most of the time to using the staff.

Can wear casual clothes instead of armour with no repercussions. Finally, some cute outfits. But not cute enough. Need more. I also miss dying outfits in different colours and dressing up my team.

It's not my fav but it's fine:

I miss being able to smooch my love interest whenever I wanted to. Let me bother everyone more. The romances are fine but I expected more in comparison to previous games.

Everyone hangs out with each other or all together (eat together, bookclub etc) but is Rook even involved? The camping trip scene was so weird. Ferelden is overrun. Where are you going? Why would these two even want to? I could maybe believe Taash being interested because they're adventurous and might be hoping to see a dragon, but even then it's so weird.

Semi related to Taash's personal storyline, I did not appreciate having words put in my Rook's mouth re: her feelings about her gender and I have seen others saying that when they play as an enby Rook it's very "third gender" rather than having any sort of nuance. This is why I'm always hesitant when companies are so proud of being inclusive, it's often so clumsy.

References:

Mage/Templar war was in the South but no one mentions really mentions much about the South. Varric?? Morrigan?? Inquisitor?? There are some letters and a few lines about what's happening but not much. Who got to be Divine, again more of a Southern issue but you think it would come up when talking to Harding or Varric. Drinking from the Well of Sorrrows. Morrigan's son. King Alistair or Grey Warden. Hawke in the Fade. Varric, my man, are we not friends? Harding, you were there even if you were just a scout! Surely you got the hot goss hanging around outside the tavern at all hours.

Surely even people in Tevinter would be talking about how the Inquisitor's old spymaster became the Divine?? Harding sort of mentions it but no one else. The Inquisitor coming along to be like "oh it's a shitshow in the South right now that's why I'm not helping you or trying to find Solas" is so stupid.

The references you do get are fine but some feel strange because they're specific enough for a fan to get them but vague enough to feel pointless because they abandoned the Keep and tracking everyone's choices. I know it's complicated because we've all played the games in a variety of ways but they started it!

I wish we had seen more of the countries. I liked the places we saw and I really enjoyed exploring them, I would have liked to see more though which is a good thing in a way? I wasn't bored by the places we got, more than they were intriguing and I wished to go further. I would have liked to see more of Minrathos outside of Dock Town, for example.

Cameos:

Re: cameos. Dorian's model looks like he got bad cosmetic surgery and veneers. What did they do to you?? However, I also hate how Alistairs looks in Inquisition so maybe I just don't like when they try to update old characters? Morrigan looks fine, but her outfit is ugly. Isabela is fine. Varric and Harding look good.

Are we unable to have cameos of characters (or references), such as Merrill, because the team are blood magic flip-floppers? She knew so much about Eluvians, blood magic, Dalish nonsense etc. She would have been a fantastic edition to the team in Inquistion and in Veilguard but apparently I can't have anything nice.

Romances:

The romances are good but once I picked my person it was weird seeing how Lucanis switched to Neve almost instantly AND how their chemistry was so much better just through banter and listening to their chats. Almost like that's what the writers intended originally and then made Rook an option later? Davrin has a sweet romance and I have heard good things about Emmerich.

Companions:

Still think I should be able to have three people tag along. Yes, it makes them just talk to each other for banter but I liked having three people.

I wish they would bicker more. Some characters are supposed to not like each other (at least for a while) but they really could have leaned into that more. Be meaner. However, saying that some fans couldn't handle Vivienne...

My main issue with all the companions is that they're really good but don't get the chance to be great. I'm assuming because of development issues. Any decent writer would want to make the most of a character. You can see what they wanted to do and what they managed is good. I feel like the writers pulled their punches too much. They could have really leaned into some ideas and expanded on some aspects so much more but didn't. They all needed an extra ten minutes to fully bake.

Taash's personal stuff is fine. It's a little awkward in places but it's nowhere near as awful as people are making it out to be. It's no worse than anyone else's personal storyline or dialogue. A lot of the criticism is over-dramatic HOWEVER I do feel like their struggles were more with their upbringing as the daughter of a strict mother (who says herself that she was never supposed to have that sort of role within the Qun) in Rivain and those two identities cause conflict, and that was really overshadowed. A lot of Taash's struggles with gender make sense when you consider how gender roles function under the Qun (how their mother would have raised them) versus how they are in Rivaini society (what she was exposed to outside of the home). That's not to say they aren't nonbinary otherwise, just that the conflict could have been woven together better.

I also didn't really like the binary choices you were presented with - why do I, a stranger, get to tell any of these people what to do with their lives? I think Rook can have an opinion but there should be a third option for the character to make their own choice, perhaps based on their approval level with you or something to at least feign free will. This felt particularly insensitive when talking to Taash.

I also think some people are forgetting or deliberately ignoring that Taash is not the only lgbt or nonbinary character in the game or the series as a whole.

But, I do also think there are awkward moments (for all the characters too) where I understand what the team was going for but it doesn't quite land right. I would have actually liked a little more focus on what it's like being a qunari in Rivain etc.

Lucanis is supposed to be a big scary mage-killing demon-possessed assassin but once you recruit him he's practically shuffling about in his fuzzy slippers making coffee at 4am. I really like him but I can't help but wish they hadn't sanded down the edges. Having the Crows fight for the little guys is certainly a choice. I would have preferred them go down more of a "these Crows in this particular family think this way" so as not to undermine everything about Zevran.

Other thoughts:

It feels like the backgrounds don't really matter, they're not referenced much anyway. I was a veil jumper so you'd think Bellara would want to chat to me about that sort of thing more but no, not really. Same with race choices. It does come up but not as much as I had hoped. I also miss the tension between races, backgrounds etc. Why am I, a Dalish elf, wandering around Minrathos unchallenged?

Where's Meredith??? We had that final shot in the animated series but that's it???

What happened to Solas' agents and the uprising? I know years have passed but you'd think there's been more turmoil considering 1. the gods are real and 2. they suck

TL;DR

I had a great time playing, and it was really fun. I actually really enjoyed the finale and the game overall. But, I am concerned that this was essentially a soft reboot and so now what? What about everything we did before? What about all those other characters we cared about?

I also think I got lucky by choosing to have my Solavellan Inquisitor and romancing Davrin, just judging my chatter online.

I think if they didn't want those choices to matter then they should have had this game hav a protagonist who has no connection to Southern Thedas at all. No Varric or Harding. Have them being a literal nobody who doesn't know anything about what's going on outside of what they've directly experienced or it's very vague. They were affected by Solas' actions. They're an elf who was an agent until they realised what he was doing. Something. I just... if you don't want to make a game where choices matter then you shouldn't be working on Dragon Age. You should make something new. This was always Bioware's whole selling point and they've just tossed all that work to one side. Who made that decision?

Imagine if we'd been forced into being a specific character, similar to Hawke in DA2, and had to actually decide whether or not to support Solas as we learned about what he was actually intending to do? Imagine.

Origins still has the strongest writing. DA2 is still my favourite. But I do think Veilguard is a good sequel to Inquisiton. Unfortunately for Bioware, this is the fourth game in a series not the second. As a fourth game, there are some really weird choices. On it's own, it's a really good game. I'm still going to get my partner to play some of it to see what they think as an outsider who only knows about Dragon Age via my chit-chat and reblogging.

[silurisanguine]

Rook Codex Writing Prompts Teleri De Riva: 26. A letter to Rook from a family member or close friend 12. Rook’s daily schedule 10. Note found in Rook’s pocket

OOH these are great!!!! (Note there are spoilers in these responses to story beats in the game.) 26 A Letter to Rook from a family member

Teleri I am writing this on the knowledge that you will find your way out of this Fade prison and read this, rolling your eyes at my every word I’ve written down. For once i will happily join you. But perhaps writing this brings you power where ever you are, as the Fade is a strange thing that listens to the thoughts of us, or so the mages of our House tell me. You have a distinct ability to pull yourself out of any situation. It has always confounded and impressed me in equal measure, so if writing this helps you, then i freely give it. It was Lucanis that brought me the news of your predicament. I know you have become close to him and I know you worry what i might think of such an arrangement. If you’d asked me months ago, i think you’d have known my answer. He is a Dellamorte and you a De Riva. But Teia pointed out not long ago of our own uniting of Houses and how that has only strengthened the Crows as a whole. Perhaps the knowledge that our name sake birds do work better as pairs fits us too. So now, if you were to ask me,I would give you my blessing. As your Talon, as a De Riva and your brother in bond. Just don't tell him that when you see him until i am in the vicinity. I want to see his face when you do. Now, Teleri. Survive and get out, that’s an order from your Talon. Viago.

12 - Rook's daily schedule. A page from Rook’s journal, hastily torn out due to a stain of coffee that has spilt over the bottom of the paper -

Another day in this strange sanctuary that I call home. Asked the Caretaker if my room could be changed to something I want, or at least drapes put over the large aquarium walls. It gave a cryptic answer about a strong presence there and nothing’s changed yet. Will try again when I get back from Nevarra. I'm sure the Lighthouse will provide this Professor Volkarin with a room suitable for them, and bets have been placed with everyone on where it will be. I’m thinking to the left of my room, but Harding is sure one of the unreachable floating buildings will suddenly have a portal to it. Speaking of the rest of the gang, Neve is still in Minrathous. I honestly don't know how long she’ll be away and part of me wonders if she will even return, considering her last words to me ~~wer~~~ the ink fades a little from some clear liquid landing on the paper, that’s been swiftly rubbed at. Lucanis is grateful at least for my choice, but what else could I have done? Treviso is my home. But we both feel the pain of the choice. Lucanis feels things deeply I can tell and I try to help where I can, considering the stress he is under. It’s funny, all this time I'd heard in hushed whispers around the Crows of the fabled Demon of Vyrantium being this cold calculated killer and Lucanis is that when in a fight. But out of it, there is this gentle, funny and rich soul that I have become dearly fond of. If Viago finds out, he’s going to kill me. I need to tell Teia first so she can handle damage control, she has a way of getting through to him that I cant. I’d best leave that thought there before it runs away with me and I go and show some initiative again that I might (not) regret. I have work to do, but first I need a new coffee as this one has gone col~~

10 Note found in Rook's pocket. This note is placed on the table in front of her that she finds when she wakes up. There is a single crow feather on top, black and shimmery purple iridescence against the reflected light of the aquarium -

The ink is purple that no one in the Lighthouse admits to owning, and the words are scratched into the paper by a hand not used to holding a quill. But the letters of the words are carefully laid out and legible. Languid LIGHT Fade and water DANCE over your FACE NOT Your place You SLEEP as he does Fitful and RESTLESS But YOUR cage is OPEN You Choose to Leave. We will protect. Below is a geometric set of lines that match the pattern of the tattoo sleeve on Teleri's arm. They are drawn in loving detail.

[charmsandtealeaves]

Got some of my reading and writing groove back this week.

Read this week:

Other Reads:

Funny Story by Emily Henry

Book Lovers by Emily Henry

Happy Place by Emily Henry

Fics:

Ripples in the Water by @kay-elle-cee (ch.13)

WIP, pirate Jily micros collection, rated M

A collection of microfics in the restless waves rise and fall universe. Each entry likely under 1k words.

Sweet Nothing by @petals2fish

Complete (2.2K), wartime Jily, rated Teen +

They were promises spoken into tired, desperate ears—fragile dreams shaped in the quiet moments when hope still flickered. Sweet nothings to cradle against the harshness of reality, like the smooth stone sitting on the kitchen counter or a single strand of hair tucked into a locket.They were just words, but words these days were the closest thing they had to magic.

Shut Up (Make Me) by petals2fish

Complete (2.3k), Hogwarts Jily, Rated M

She was supposed to be mad at him, not mad about him. But when he opened his eyes, she wasn’t fuming, and wasn't pushing him away with a scathing remark. Instead, she stared up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, lips still slightly parted as if she hadn’t quite processed the space he’d put between them. There was no anger, no sharp-edged retort—just quiet, stunned curiosity, like she was confused why he’d stopped so suddenly. “Shit,” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure what for. His breath hitched as he realized her hand was still tangled in his hair, fingernails ghosting over his scalp, sending little shivers down his spine. “You didn't mean to kiss me tonight,” she whispered, her green eyes locked onto his, searching—like she was trying to find something hidden among the freckles and summer-worn tan of his face. "Did you?"

The Unsent Letters of Lily J Evans by @tedwardremus

Complete (2.5k), Rated G

The summer before 6th year, Lily wrote a lot of letters. She didn’t send a single one

Slam by @athenasparrow

Complete (944w), mutual pining Jily, rated T

James’ hazel eyes blaze so furiously that Lily wonders if his magic might pour out of him until her hard-won herbs are no more than smoking ash.

Eternal Summer, Book 1: Beginning Again by @missgryffin (ch.5)

WIP, Hogwarts Jily, Rated E

James Potter just spent his sixth year trying to get over Lily Evans while, unbeknownst to him, Lily Evans just spent her sixth year trying not to fancy James Potter. Now, they just had a drunken near-kiss that neither one remembers, they've been named Head Boy and Girl, and they're both wondering how they'll survive their final year at Hogwarts in each others' presence.

The Lighthouse by @tedwardremus

Complete (30k), Remadora Muggle AU, Rated M

There is an old fishing town off the jagged rocky coast covered in permanent fog and a broken lighthouse that is no longer able to bring ships safely to shore. Tonks travels to the forgotten place to record an episode of her popular podcast. Imagine Tonks' surprise when she arrives at the abandoned lighthouse and comes face to face with its kind yet lonely keeper—Remus.

I want you (bless my soul) by @wearingaberetinparis

Complete (2.5k), curse breaker Jily AU, Rated M

If anyone had asked Lily Evans what she planned to do with her life while at Hogwarts, she would have loftily replied that she had her future all planned out. If those same people would see her now, though – thigh-deep in quicksand, holding on to James Potter’s forearms in an attempt not to sink to its deep, bottomless pit – they would hardly call her in control of her destiny.

To Live Without A Heart by @uncertainwallflower (ch.4)

WIP, James Lives AU, Rated M

James wasn’t home that night. It was the one decent thing Peter did, and James hated him for it.

Coming of Age Era by @jamesunderwater

Complete (1.3k), pre-relationship Jily, Rated G

James Potter is growing up -- no, really, he is, he even has a card to prove it!

[blackwall-my-tiny-husband]

We Can Continue this in the Morning

Day 7 of veilguard appreciation week. It’s been such a blast, thanks so much to @veilguard-appreciation-week for hosting the event! I’ve enjoyed seeing and reading everyone’s entries and participating myself!!!

Day 7: the lighthouse | we can continue this in the morning

Zalan wants to tell varric he’s seeing Harding

Set after her lock in scene but before the fire and ice quest

It was warm in the little tent in Harding’s room, Lace was draped over Zalan’s chest breathing evenly as she slept hopefully dreaming good dreams. The crow was still blinking away the sleep from his eyes but with the dwarf slung over him, arm across his stomach he wasn’t getting up any time soon. He’d briefly thought about trying to move her and get up anyway, he usually went for a stretch and run this early but her face looked peaceful and that was enough that he wouldn’t be disturbing her. Anytime her dreams managed to not be bad dreams Zalan found himself bending over backwards doing anything to let her sleep longer.

So instead of getting up the crow found himself gently running his hands through Lace’s hair. She’d taken down the braids after bathing last night and it had dried in waves down her back. The red shone in the patches of sun that infiltrated the tent and he admired the color as he brushed through her hair. The red shade was a favorite of his now, but so was the green of her eyes, and the blue of her lyrium magic. Not that he would admit that to anyone.

Listening to her sleep and enjoying the comforting weight of her on his chest he filed through what the team would need to do for the day. Dock Town had a few requests for aid as did Rivain and he’d have to split them up into groups if they wanted to do both today.

As he decided who to send where his eyes caught on Lace’s desk in the corner, missives littering the top, several letters opened and half finished were scattered prominently in the center, a good number with the inquisition stamp on them.

Which reminded him that he needed to check in with Varric. Somehow the dwarf slipped his mind easily these days- a thought he attributed to how busy everyone had been recently, but he’d been meaning to stop by and chat with him for days now.

Truthfully since Harding had kissed him he’d been meaning to bring it up with Varric. Everyone else in the lighthouse had brought up his relationship with Lace, or so it seemed, and he had been meaning to talk to his injured friend about it before someone else told him first. Zalan didn’t think the writer would hold it against him for not telling him if he heard it from someone else but the crow owed him so much he deserved to hear it from him.

He might have been unconsciously putting it off, just a little, because he was nervous about what Varric would say.

He was the one who introduced the two after all, he’d been friends with Harding for much much longer, and had always been protective of his friends. So if he didn’t approve Zalan wasn’t sure what he would do. It would hurt in a way he hadn’t experienced since Viago had been forced to rescue him on a mission gone wrong, carrying his bloody and freshly scarred body to safety instead of throwing his graduation to name him a full crow.

He comforted himself with the thought that if Varric disapproved he would only threaten Zalan or maybe try to talk sense into Harding not shoot him or send him back to the Crows.

At least he didn’t think Varric would throw him out.

Lace finally stirred pulling him out of his thoughts; sighing and nuzzling into him for a moment before stretching and grumbling about waking up with the fade sun so bright.

Giving her scalp a scratch Zalan chuckled and pressed a good morning kiss to her head. She vaguely groaned and gave his chest a pat before rolling off him to get up.

With her awake Zalan headed out of the greenhouse and promised to meet back up after breakfast for a team meeting.

Not wanting to put off the talk any longer he jogged up the stairs to the infirmary.

Varric was there, hobbling around the room, heading back to the bed, face drawn and tired.

“Hey kid, I was working on Bianca again, have to get her back into working order before I’m well enough to get back out there or I’ll be useless in a fight.” It was said with a chuckle but Zalan still felt worry for the dwarf swim though his stomach. He still wasn’t looking much better and he hoped Varric wasn’t pushing himself too hard and just making it worse. But he couldn’t very well tell him to just leave it until he was healed, Zalan wouldn’t be able to just sit still and do nothing and he couldn’t expect Varric to be any different.

“You have a minute?” Varric was pulling back the covers and sitting down on the bed looking haggard but Zalan looked hopeful.

“Leg’s bothering me today but for you Rook I have a minute or two, what’s wrong now?” He asked it with a smile and an eyebrow quirk, like he thought Zalan was always in trouble. Which maybe was a fair thought but the crow still huffed.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Zalan paused, leaning against the doorframe and fiddling with his nails for something to do.

“I- Varric I think I really like Harding.” He said it like maybe he had a problem after all. Before he could add any more Varric snorted,

“I’d hope so, we traveled together for a whole year.” Zalan wasn’t sure if he was being teased or if Varric was being purposefully obtuse and shook his head as the dwarf settled back into the bed.

“I think I love Lace Harding.” He corrected himself, trying to sound less uncertain this time and tried to look at Verric as he spoke but his eyes slid to Bianca on the table instead, “I think I’ve liked her for a while now too. When we went to retrieve the lyrium dagger- Varric I thought I’d lost her for a second when she fell off that cliff. And I want her to know now, that this is real. That it’s always been real, all the stupid times I’ve flirted, I meant it. I-“

He went to look at Varric, wanting to see if there was any reaction in the man’s face but Varric was asleep, sweat on his forehead and exhaustion written in his features.

Zalan sighed, feeling deflated after finally managing to confess it all to the dwarf only to have him fall asleep.

“Never mind, we can continue this in the morning.” His grumbling even sounded bitter to himself.

But then immediately a rush of guilt washed over him; Varric was still gravely wounded, still trying to heal, obviously still in pain if this interaction was anything to go by. He shouldn’t be bothering the older man, he needed his rest for his body to heal. And there he was just trying to yap at the poor man. He berated himself and shoved off the doorframe crossing his arms and leaving the room quietly as to not disturb Varric’s much needed rest.

He’d talk to the man later. When he was feeling better. Feeling up to it. For now he’d go down to the dining hall and the team would help, do some good, and kick some butt.

//

Later, after Solas tried to trap him, after the long arduous journey to break out of the fade prison, after the team told him what had happened while he was away, when he finally had a second to breathe Zalan wondered about that moment.

He had stared down at the empty bed where he’d thought Varric had been, the old worn coat and book sitting there. And he could feel his chest tighten yet again- it seemed to be doing that a lot as he came to terms with so much- this time from the knowledge that he never did get to tell Varric.

That someone so close to Harding never got to threaten him to treat her right like Taash did. That he didn’t get to properly thank him for introducing him to the love of his life, to leading him to the team he would consider his family. To thank him for saving him by offering him a different path after Viago sent him away from the Crows.

He would get through this like everything else. But knowing it had been Solas, letting him believe Varric was too injured, too tired to hear. That did hurt worse than torture, it hurt his soul. Made him want to hit something or throw something or cry again.

Solas would be answering for a lot when they next spoke.

Had to make today’s prompt with Varric in it for just a little bit of angst. Rook romancing Harding and wanting to tell Varric the good news but never being able to. Rook wanting to talk about her to varric because they were close and varric always cared but not getting to because either his mind won’t let him or solas doesn’t want to chat.

[bubblecat-co]

Just a lil Rook kiss Pt. 7

Full list of prompts here and if you want to make our rooks kiss (Aria or Elysia) or read them kissing their Li you can comment here or send an ask!

a lil return of Nels in this one because I love them

32. A kiss while someone watches Aria and Zalan (@virenasalin) feat. Nels (@madrabbit014)

Zalan the one and only bloodthirsty hunger games victor. Thank you for trusting me with writing him (i know you literally just asked, I'm doing it in number order and 32 just happened be next) Also adding Nels because them and Aria continues to be my favorite duo.

“I need to take a trip out and get some more sage. I’m running low.” Aria moved the papers in front of her around. Letters and notes from mostly Viago demanding updates and also information of the current happenings of Treviso. 

“I need to make a shopping trip myself, I need more drawing supplies, and I think we’re running low on medical supplies.” Nels leaned against the wall watching the assassin arrange the letters in order of importance, Viago’s was at the very bottom. They had seen her do this many times claiming she would get to them later but never would. “Maybe when you’re done pretending to respond to letters we can go. Make a list and grab what people need.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad. I need to get more poison as well, running low from the number of times I’ve coated my blades.” The door to the library opened up followed by the soft clanking of gold. Aria turned her head, her wavy black hair following off of her shoulder. “Ah Zalan. Is there anything you might need? Nels and I are planning on doing some shopping later, might as well give us your list now.” 

The older elf stared at the two younger ones, his eyes full of skepticism “you two? Going shopping? You’ll find trouble faster than I can walk into a trap.” 

Nels and Aria glanced at each other for a moment. “Well, we all find trouble in different ways. It’s never uneventful. Plus, we are both trained professionals.” She gave Zalan a quick smile as she slowly pushed one of Viago’s letters off the table, letting it get lost under the couch. 

Zalan could only sigh as he made his way over to the two “I guess that’s fair enough. Some more of that uhh what’s the name?” he snapped his fingers as his mind worked “Agh I don’t know, that antivan hot chocolate and maybe some elfroot?”

“Cioccolata calda and elfroot, got it.” she quickly reached over for an empty page and wrote it down. Nels' eyes glanced down to where the paper had vanished and reached down to pulled out the ‘missing’ letter. They set it down on the table in front of her, making sure she saw it. 

“I think this fell.” they gave her a smug smile which got returned with a small glare and a sigh. 

“Ok, I have a small job Isabela wants me to do and I’ll be back.” Zalan walked over and placed a small kiss atop of Aria’s head “Don’t self sacrifice yourselves.” He made his way to the eluvian room leaving. 

“He gave you a kiss but not me.” Nels sighed as they took a seat next to Aria. “How is that fair? and Self-sacrificing is my job”

“Maybe you can ask him for one when he returns. also, self-sacrificing isn't a job" Aria took the letter that she had tried to rid herself of–thank you Nels–and began to write a response deciding that it was better than the alternative of Viago storming into the lighthouse or bombarding her when she visited the Diamond next.

[slothquisitor]

Marionette

Summary: In which questions are answered and lines are very nearly crossed. Featuring corpse-whispering and that almost kiss in the pantry. Eventual Rook/Lucanis, 3.5k.

Also on AO3.

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“No, Bel, I don’t think the queen’s secret lover is the stable boy,” Neve says. 

Bellara’s face scrunches as she shakes her head in disbelief. “But doesn’t it make the most sense?”

Neve laughs. “The queen would’ve noticed the coarseness of his hands if it was him. My money’s on the Duke.”

“But the Duke is so rude to her!” 

“All the more reason to suspect him. Watch, he’s being awful on purpose to throw her off course.”

Camina snorts as she follows them up the steps from the eluvian room into the library of the Lighthouse. It’s been a couple of months now, and there’s something of homecoming about climbing the stairs into the library. Maybe it’s that this is the longest she’s been in one place since leaving Nevarra, or maybe it’s the fact her friends are here, but it’s always a relief to come back. 

Bellara rounds on her. “Not a word, Rook. Just because you already finished this one.”

Camina holds her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything!”

“There was a snort though,” Bellara accuses. 

Neve nods clearly happy to add kindling. “There was…about the Duke.”

Camina walks over to the carefully piled missives that sit waiting on the small end table. “It’s really not fair for the two of you to gang up on me.”

They’ve spent a long day tracking Venatori in Arlathan, and they’ve managed to clear out a few camps. They’re still looking for why the Venatori are in Arlathan in the first place, but she’s sure they’ll get to the bottom of it. Optimism is present in everyone right now. They’re all still riding the high of taking out a pair of blighted dragons last week. Maker but it was nice to finally feel like they managed a win. It had been nice to finally come back to Varric and tell him she’d done something right rather than simply creating bigger problems. 

She quickly cards through the missives looking for anything urgent. There’s a letter for Harding from her mother. A note to Taash from Isabela. Some updates on the hauntings in the Necropolis along with a letter from Willow, which she pockets to read later, but nothing else terribly pressing. It’s a relief. 

“I thought I heard you coming in,” Lucanis says, coming down the stairs along the side of the library. He looks the same as ever, though she notes that he’s not currently carrying a coffee mug. 

For a moment, she’s not sure he’s talking to her. Lucanis has been avoiding her since they were last in Treviso. There have been no quiet discussions in the firelight in the dining hall. He hasn’t tracked her down in any of her odd spots, an offering of tea in hand. At least he and Davrin seem to be getting along better, but she only manages a check-in with him at mealtimes where it’s impossible not to see one another. 

“We were dealing with Venatori in Arlathan,” Neve sighs. “They’ve a few less camps there now.”

“Good,” Lucanis says before turning his attention to her. “Rook, could I get your help with something?”

The request feels like a lifeline. She’s been so unsure how to reach him after what happened in Treviso. Every time they speak there’s this air of apology hanging between them as though he’s done something unforgivable. 

“Of course.” She looks at Neve and Bellara. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Thank you,” he says, gaze skittering away from her as the two other women head out into the courtyard. “I need more answers on everything that’s happened. Emmrich offered to use his methods.”

Separating him and Spite? Hadn’t Emmrich said it was impossible without killing them? “To do what, exactly?”

Lucanis pauses at the edge of the hallway that leads to Emmrich’s quarters, but he still can’t seem to look at her. “Should something go wrong…I will end it. You have my word.”

She steps closer so that avoiding looking at her is far more difficult. He looks so very tired. When was the last time he slept? “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see.” And then he stalks into Emmrich’s room. 

Emmrich’s room is bright and welcoming and as always smells faintly of home. Emmrich is writing at his desk and Manfred is shelving books nearby. Manfred perks up as they enter, offering a wave and a friendly hiss in her direction. It would be a rather mundane sort of afternoon in the Lighthouse if it wasn’t for the corpse lying on the stone slab in front of her. 

“Ah, Rook, so glad that you could join us,” Emmrich says, standing as she enters. 

Camina walks over to the stone slab and the body. “Is that Zara Renata?” She looks pretty good for being almost a week dead. Either all the blood magic she used is somehow lingering or a necromancer has helped slow the rate of decomposition. She suspects more of the latter based on the lack of rigor mortis. And then she realizes what Lucanis means to have Emmrich do and why he had offered such a cryptic warning. 

The last time he’d been talking to Zara, Spite had taken over. But that’s not quite why Spite had taken over, she remembers clearly it being Illario’s interruption being the reason. Lucanis prizes his control, but she can’t help but think he’s holding on too tightly to the wrong strings here. 

Lucanis approaches slowly, the distance he maintains between them feels careful, intentional. She wishes she was less aware of it. “Zara spoke to Illario before she died. Emmrich can talk to the dead…and I have to know.”

He’s shut down every conversation she’s tried to have about Illario and his role in all of this. Perhaps that’s why he’s been keeping his distance…even now. 

“I will warn you, corpse-whispering is a delicate process. Not every corpse has something to say, and she may not be interested in speaking with her killers,” Emmrich explains. 

“I’d hoped if this doesn’t work…you might read her bones?” Lucanis asks, voice quiet. 

Oh. Well, with all the blood magic she was doing that seems like it’ll be a deeply unpleasant experience. She’s about to make some joke when she realizes just how much it is taking for Lucanis to even ask for their help; she doesn’t want to give him any reason to push her further away. 

“If Emmrich’s magic doesn’t work, I can try.”

He’s not looking at her, instead, he has his eyes fixed on Zara’s corpse. “Thank you.” Then Lucanis gives Emmrich a nod, and Emmrich begins casting. 

She’s seen Emmrich use his corpse whispering before, but there’s something exciting about it every time. His command of the Fade is rather like an orchestra conductor, there’s a sort of cadence to the words he says as he draws on his magic, his arms raised as though there is music only he can hear.

“Let flame rekindle your sight. Let breath and light rise again.”

There’s a rattling sound as Zara’s corpse fills with false life. 

“Tell us about Illario Dellamorte,” Emmrich says. 

For a moment, it seems that perhaps Zara’s corpse has nothing to say to them at all, but then a single word escapes her lips on a caught-out wheeze. “Amatus…He fooled us both.”

She doesn’t know much Tevene, but she knows what amatus means. She glances at Lucanis. “They were…involved?”

Lucanis glares down at Zara. “Elaborate.”

Zara’s head twists to look at him almost unnaturally so, her face pinched together in cruelty. Her movements are jerky, she seems alive, but Camina knows that it’s just the effect of Emmrich’s magic allowing her to puppet her limbs. “You took what he wanted most in this world... more than coin... pleasure…family…”

“The title of First Talon,” he says flatly. 

Seriously? What the fuck? “Illario had you imprisoned and tortured for a promotion?”

But Zara has an answer for that too. “Well, the job was to kill you, but this one doesn’t waste those with potential …”

If Zara wasn’t already dead, the way she says potential and looks at Lucanis would have earned it. This woman did not suffer enough. Perhaps she and Emmrich can arrange to have her remains put to work in the Necropolis after this. 

“And Caterina?” Lucanis’s voice sounds so small. “Did he hire you to kill her?”

Zara smirks. “No.”

She understands Lucanis’s line of questioning, but she’s more concerned with Illario and the danger he poses to Lucanis. “Illario used blood magic to control Spite. How? He's not a mage.”

“Our risen god gives many gifts.”

Risen god? “Elgar’nan?! Illario is working with Elgar’nan?!” She looks at Emmrich and then Lucanis. Emmrich’s concern mirrors her own, but Lucanis just scowls. 

“Her spirit’s strong. Haste would be appreciated,” Emmrich warns. 

“Let her go. We’ve heard enough,” Lucanis replies. He doesn’t look away from Zara as Emmrich lets the magic dissipate and she goes still once again. Lucanis keeps his attention trained on her as though this false life Emmrich has breathed into her could somehow bring her back for good.

Lucanis can’t be surprised to learn Illario was behind all of this…not after everything in the Chantry. Still, it has to hurt. “Lucanis…I’m so sorry.”

He still hasn’t looked away from Zara’s unmoving form. “So am I.”

“What are you going to do?” Because something must be done; Illario must be stopped from whatever he’s planning.

His fingers clench and his eyebrows knit together. “Take away everything from him.” And then he turns on his heel and leaves. 

“Oh dear,” Emmrich places a hand against his cheek. “I had warned him that this could be distressing. Rook, I don’t believe he should be alone right now.”

Emmrich’s right, but she’s not sure that Lucanis wants her to be the one chasing him down.

 “Thank you for your help,” she says and then follows Lucanis. 

He’s already halfway down the stairs into the library by the time she catches up. “So are we like…not going to talk about how your cousin seduced a blood mage to convince her to kill you?”

“Rook…” His voice is full of quiet warning. 

She ignores it. “He sold you out. He’s the reason you spent a year in the Ossuary…he gave you to Zara.” Maker, how is it possible that she’s more upset about this than him? It’s so utterly unfair. He had trusted Illario, considered him family, and for what? Where had that gotten him? 

When he turns to look at her, the exhaustion is clear on his face. “I know.”

She’s stopped a stair above him, and the inversion of their heights makes her feel like she’s being mean pursuing this line of conversation that he so clearly doesn’t want. But she can’t seem to let this go. “Why would he do that to you? I thought you said you were like brothers.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Rook. He always wanted the title of First Talon…he was always angry that Caterina seemed to favor me, but I never wanted it. He knew that.”

“So he got you both out of his way to take what he wanted?”

His answering smile is a grim thing. “If Caterina were alive, she might finally be proud of him.”

“Maker, are you serious? Caterina beat you and called it training…your cousin killed her and arranged for your death…and you think she’d be proud? What sort of family is that?”

“A Crow one.”

“Why aren’t you more angry about this?”

He laughs; it is a joyless thing. “And what good would that do? Emotion only makes you sloppy.”

“This isn’t a contract, Lucanis. This is your life. You know that you’re allowed to be angry about this…allowed to feel some type of way about this, right?” 

He shakes his head. “What I want…how I feel? It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry, Rook. If he really is working with Elgar’nan, we’ll stop him.”

“I’m less worried about Illario and more worried about you.” She’s not sure she could be holding out her heart any more obviously and all the ways it is breaking for everything he’s been through. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

It’s not and neither is he, but she’s worried that continuing to press this isn’t actually going to do them any good. She worries it’s entirely likely he’ll go back to avoiding her if she keeps going at this, and she hates the thought of that. He looks utterly miserable in this moment, and she wishes she knew how to help, but even mere feet from each other, he feels so distant. 

“I..the team, we’re all here for you, okay?” 

“Thank you, Rook.” And then he continues down the stairs and out to the courtyard. 

***

This time, wrestling back control from Spite feels harder. Often, it is as simple as waking up. Gentle almost as sunlight streaming in an open window and the slow coming to consciousness that follows. There is nothing gentle this time. He can feel Spite fighting back, feel his frustration and his anger, and that only makes Lucanis panic more. What if someone is in danger? What if he is once again holding the knife over someone he loves? Each question weighs him down and he feels as though he is wading through thick mud, but suddenly he breaks the surface and Spite’s hold shatters. 

He is standing in the pantry. There is a momentary relief to that until he realizes that he isn’t alone because Rook is here. Because of course, she is. Spite is always too interested in her, too insistent on talking with her. It’s one of the reasons he’s been avoiding her. 

“Rook?”

As always, she is far kinder than he deserves. “You were sleepwalking.”

He lowers his head. “Spite was sleepwalking.”

“He didn’t go anywhere; nothing happened.” 

Except that, yet again, she has seen him lose control to Spite. No matter what he says or the reassurances he gives, she continues to see all of the ways he is a danger to her and everyone else. 

The demon in question folds his arms and glowers in his direction. “Not honoring. Our deal.” He ignores him. 

“I didn’t want you to see that. Again,” he replies. He wishes she wasn’t constantly seeing him at his worst.

He expects her to have a quip ready to try to dispel this with her trademark humor. But for once, she is serious. “Nothing I’m seeing makes me want to look away.”

This is the other reason he’s been avoiding her. There is such a simple earnestness in her words. When she says things like this it lights up something within him that terrifies him even as he desperately wants more of it. Wanting is a dangerous business. Caterina would call it a weakness to be exploited, and he’s not sure that she’d be wrong. But then again, what part of his life hasn’t been defined by the expectations of others? Rook is here, and she’s looking at him like that. And she’s right, she’s had every opportunity to look away and still, she’s here. Somehow, against all odds, he’s forgotten about Spite…about losing control. If only for a moment. Maybe that’s enough. 

“How do you always do that?” 

There’s a slight smile gracing her lips. “Do what?”

“Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom,” he replies. “You deserve better than to deal with my mess.”

And objectively, he is a mess. She had a front-row seat yesterday over Zara’s body to just how big of a mess his life currently is. She’s smart enough to know that this way lies ruin. 

But she doesn’t leave. Instead, she cocks her head and looks at him in that intense way of hers. “You’re more than what you’re going through. And you…wear it well.” Her cheeks flush a bit as she meets his gaze. 

And there it is. There’s a sense of satisfaction about confirming her interest in him, and he’s surprised by how much he wants it. He’s never been any good at this, but perhaps he can try. He’s seen scenes like this play out a thousand times in bars and cafes, and he knows what she wants…what’s expected. He doesn’t know any other way to do this, so he does his best to step forward with purpose and intention.  

He sets his hand against the cool stone as he leans over her. “This isn’t a good idea.”

She’s barely containing a smile, and his heart skips a little at her playful shrug. “Sometimes, a bad idea is better.”

The tease is easy, she makes everything so damn easy. “You like to walk a little too close to the edge.”

She sidles closer. “So do you.” She raises a finger, toying with his collar chain before lightly touching his chest, her amethyst eyes locked on his all the while. The point of contact becomes a white-hot brand and his entire attention shifts to that single connection. He’s struck by a surge of want, honest and true, and entirely overwhelming. 

But he’s still somehow acting out the script, playing the part he’d locked himself into moments ago. He’s like one of those street puppets he sees so often in Treviso, trapped in a role, the story already determined. It is as though someone else is holding his strings, directing every word and movement. The moment begins to unravel around him, blurring at the edges. 

“At least I know I’m doing it.” The words escape him in a whisper, sounding far more sure than he feels. 

It’s impossible to miss the effect of his words, the clear desire in her eyes, the way she glances down at his lips and back up again. His own desire barrels through him, hot and fierce and entirely unexpected. This happens so rarely for him and he wants nothing more than to ride the gracelessly crashing wave that flows through every thought: he wants this. What he wants has never been allowed to matter before. But the rest of his life is so thoroughly in shambles, why not this too? She’ll figure out soon enough that all he is good for is death, but in this moment maybe it doesn’t have to matter. He’s leaning in and so is she, and it would be so easy to kiss her now, especially when she is a mere breath away. 

His entire existence has been a series of decisions made for him. And despite all his wanting, he can’t have this. Not like this. Not when he is playing a role, pretending to be something he’s not. To live truly is to live fully, but nothing about this moment is true. 

“I…need to clear my head.” He pulls away. No amount of distance from her feels safe, not now he’s felt how overwhelming it is to allow himself to want her. He knows it’s a mistake to look at her, to meet her gaze, but he’s unable to resist. 

Hurt and confusion war in her expression, and he wishes there was anything he could say to banish either one. “Excuse me,” he manages, hoping she catches the apology in his words. 

And then he makes his retreat. She lets him have it. 

Lucanis is barely paying attention to where his feet take him, to the fragilely bound balcony on the side of the dining room. The stairs that lead to nowhere, the endless expanse of the Fade stretching out ahead of him. He’s no good at this, at people, at flirting. He never has been. And he’s always been fine with that, content enough with the life he has. It is only since the Ossuary, since joining this team that he’s begun to wonder about the ways things could be different even as he desperately tries to claw his way back to the man he was before. 

There had been a moment in the pantry, an exquisite jewel of a moment, where he had felt he could simply reach out and take what was being offered without complication or caution or overthinking. But even that is too big a risk for a possessed man. What was it that Rook had said yesterday? ‘This isn’t a contract’. 

But then, what else could it be?

[hedwigoprah]

I'm feeling a touch nostalgic today going through my old writing, so here have my favorite chapter of Window Seat Rated G no warnings hurt/comfort 2,606 words

The atmosphere today, how to describe it.

Laughter came from the second story landing as Emmrich mused to himself adding to his ever growing list of mental notes. The laughter was followed immediately by a groan of frustration and a thud.

Perhaps, hysterical?

Tense? Certainly.

Unkempt? Undoubtedly.

Unmanageable? Not in the slightest.

“This is so frustrating.” Was the declaration that greeted him as he reached the top of the stairs. “You know what?” He was sure this would be rhetorical. “I think correspondence is ridiculous. There is so much magic in the world and you’re telling me there’s no other way for me to provide updates for the tens of people I answer to?”

“I think you’re doing quite well. The letters are almost legible this time.”

Veryl’s head snapped up as she glared at him from the small table set in front of the window seat. The poor girl had become an invalid a couple of weeks ago now, and was semi-handicapped by her right arm. He reclaimed his seat that had been moved closer to the table, refreshing his cup of tea and topping off hers.

“The Watchers didn’t include ambidextrous writing in their training.”

“An egregious oversight on their part.” He only teased her because he knew that letting her wallow would be worse. Yes, he could manage this.

Veryl reached up to put her hand beneath where the sling was tied around her neck, trying to mitigate the rubbing that was eating away at the delicate skin there. Emmrich watched as she swallowed another bout of frustration. Neve, who was leading in her stead while she recovered, had just dropped in to give an update on where things were. She was trying to track down one of her contacts, having taken Lucanis and Taash with her. They were having no luck so far, but hopping through an Eluvian was quicker than a letter as Veryl had just pointed out. That team was back out following new leads.

Harding had taken Bellara and Davrin back to Arlathan Forest to help solve some problems the Veil Jumpers were having. They hadn’t heard from them recently, but all of the absences made the usual lighthouse bustle cease completely. Emmrich had offered to stay with a decidedly surly Rook while she recovered. He would leave, of course if they should require his assistance, but they had decided amongst themselves that perhaps he would be the best option.

“You get too close to one knife, one time…” She was grumbling again, but still diligently trying to write neatly.

Had it been so simple they probably wouldn’t have to occupy her to such a degree and divvy up tasks for the field. It had been gruesome. What was “too close” had been deeply embedded in her upper right arm, the knife had been jagged and had lodged itself into her bicep muscle, tearing through the ligature. It was a horror trying to remove it. Rook had passed out from the pain and was later artificially sedated.

Typically, injuries could be worked on with a healer, and the Veil Jumpers had been kind enough to offer one. It was the only support their team lacked. However, the healer at the Veil Jumper camp had their hands full with the current bout of attacks and couldn’t give Rook more time than an initial fix. This is what Harding’s group was trying to help them combat.

So, while Rook had laid in the infirmary here at the lighthouse, the rest of the team met. In the kitchen. On the other side of the island. Where they went when they needed to decide things without her. It had been a soft suggestion at first when she woke up. Neve and Harding had briefed her on what was going on beyond the fade and how they could be of use. Veryl didn’t waste time trying to get dressed and pack her gear. But she was a smart girl, arriving at the same conclusion they had the night before. This had halted her movements, pants only half way up her legs.

“I wouldn’t be a very good leader if you guys couldn’t operate without me.” She was saying as they eased her back to the bed and Emmrich pushed through the infirmary door. He carried a tray of supplies and tea things. Neve’s fingers were brushing through Rook’s hair as she sat on her right, and Harding held her hand from the left.

“We’ll make sure to keep you updated on what’s going on.” Neve assured her as he placed the tray on the table beside her bed.

“It’s us, you know we can handle anything they decide to throw at us.” Harding echoed the sentiment. “We won’t make any big decisions without you.”

They told her about who was going with what team and how they were dividing up responsibilities. “Emmrich is staying behind to help tend to your arm.” Neve had explained.

“Between the three of us, we decided I was the best mage to handle bodily functions.” He chimed in. Rook had glanced at him, a skeptical look contorted her face. “I am perfectly capable of keeping a human alive.”

Harding pulled Rook’s attention back to her bandaged arm. “They were able to stop the bleeding and get the wound closed but there’s only so much healing magic can do at one time.” She looked at her apologetically. “Sorry, Rook, I think you’re going to be out of commission for a little while.”

Rook had nodded in understanding. There wasn’t anything she could do and Emmrich knew how she liked to hide any bigger negative feelings that plagued her.

Which is why he felt honored to witness her angrily crumple up several pieces of parchment at once and throw it out the tower window.

“What was it this time?” Emmrich sipped from his tea cup.

She was pouting now, having tucked herself into the corner of the many cushions covering the window seat. “I spelled my name wrong.” she muttered. Emmrich pursed his lips in contemplation. That would have been at the end of the letter too. 

Perhaps a distraction was in order.

“Come with me.” He stood, gently moving the table to the side. “We have work that needs to be done.” Framing the time they set aside for healing as work seemed to soothe her irritation.

Emmrich had come to understand, through discussion with cohorts back at the Necropolis, that Rook had always been a very enthusiastic member of the Watchers. It made sense with how intense and persistent she was, constant momentum was essential to her well-being. Being thrown into a sudden and dead stand-still was like watching her decay in front of his eyes. Not an unfamiliar concept to him in his line of work, but too soon for his liking.

Down on the first floor of the library, he made a space for her at the table. He had tried to keep the space clear but it kept getting covered in papers and books and trinkets and just, things. They had a routine. He would clear the table and she would remove the sling. She would sit on the table, and he would unwrap the bandage that kept her arm protected.

As he finished unwrapping the first layer of bandage, she cleared her throat.

“Your fingers are really cold.” She observed quietly. There wasn’t too much space between them and no need to speak loudly.

Looking at her from over his glasses, he paused his removal of the bandage. He was about to ask what he could do to lessen her discomfort, when she spoke again. “I don’t really mind, actually.” Answering before his words could populate. “It kind of reminds me of home.”

He offered a small knowing smile, before going back to gently unraveling the bandage. He had wondered, in passing, how different her coloring was when she wasn’t getting as much sun as she did here. He couldn’t imagine her warm, rosy complexion would be any less alive under the eerie glow of their shared homeland.

That was another of her facets. Providing life anew, even amongst the dead.

With the final bandage removed and discarded, Emmrich placed hands gently on her bicep, a breath escaped from her lungs as she steadied herself against the pain, brushing past his ear.

“Remember, just a light buzz for a few minutes.” He reminded her of what they had done the last several days. It was the only thing they had done until he felt the muscle was sufficiently repaired. Today would be different, however. The muscle needed therapy.

There was only silence between them as he worked over her arm. He noticed her starting to get a little restless, her leg was starting to swing, almost connecting with his shin every couple of revolutions. Barefoot as she was, it wouldn’t do her foot any good to kick him. He thought he would probably be fine. After all, toes were delicate things.

“Veryl.” He spoke to capture her attention from whatever she was ruminating on. She looked to him, expectant. “What do you like to read?”

She thought about his question. “I mean, you know all of the books I’ve been pouring through lately. Lots of histories and legends, myths and lore.” She just shrugged as though she was reiterating what he already knew of her.

“You borrow those.” He looked over his glasses at her again and smirked. He wasn’t blind, he had seen the space the lighthouse had set aside for her personal collection in his library. He hadn’t wanted to go snooping around, however. Trying to provide what little privacy he could to someone who had given up any semblance of it.

The blush was threatening to spread to her collar bones. She refused to make eye contact with him and the way blood traveled under her skin was pulling his attention. He cleared his throat and moved his eyes back to the task at hand. He had to rekindle some of his mana as some of it had dissipated in his distraction, this quick addition in power caused a surge of energy that caused Rook to suck in her breath through her teeth.

“They’re just some classics.” She rushed out. “And a few romance novels.”

It suddenly occurred to him that she might have thought that he was trying to shock it out of her, or punish her for taking up space, hence her sudden confession. He switched his left hand to a cooling magic to help soothe out any angered nerve endings. “My apologies,” he murmured softly. “That was unintentional.”

There was a smack and he was watching her again as she had brought her left hand to her face rather suddenly and with what sounded like violence.

He was smiling when he replied to her gesture. “There’s nothing wrong with fiction, Rook. I’ve read many a fantastical adventure in my time.”

He went back to focusing on slowing his magic and easing it out of her skin. He thought he heard her mumble something about his books not including words like ‘heaving breasts’. No, he thought he should let that one go. For her sake. He pulled his hands away from her arm, taking a step back to locate new bandages.

“Are we finished?” He didn’t miss the deep breath she took in as soon as he gave her space.

“Very nearly.” He made quick work of grabbing new supplies and returning to the table. He was not anxious for this part.  “Unfortunately, with an injury like this, part of the recovery requires specific training of the muscle to recuperate.” Magic could help speed up human recovery, but there was nothing quite like good old fashioned exercise.

“From this point forward, we’ll be including some of these in our routine work everyday.” He gestured for her to stand from the table. “It will make you feel like you’re accomplishing something, but you may not enjoy it.” She nodded along, masked with steely determination.

He walked her through various things. Lowering and raising her arm. Bending it gently this way and that. Nearing the end, she was sweating and he could see the tears in her eyes that she refused to acknowledge.

Placing his hand on her good shoulder, he guided her back to the table and helped her regain her sitting position there. He felt how her skin had warmed, hoping his cold fingers perhaps provided a balm.

“This is the last one we’ll do for today.” He braced a hand on both of her shoulders, pulling all of her focus to him. He held a hand out for her. “For this, you’ll need to take my hand and push up with everything you have. I’m going to push down just a bit. It’s going to burn, but this will help to rebuild what’s been taken from you.”

He tested the theory that making it personal, beyond her physical muscle and tapping into her inner strength should help to bolster her determination to see this through to the end. She did as she was told, placing her hand under his and grasping it. Already he could see her arm shaking from just being upright. He would only need to provide resistance for about thirty seconds to help this be effective. Time and repetitions would increase tomorrow, but for today, he just wanted to see what was capable of doing for herself.

As he started to gently provide that resistance to her push, he tried not to watch her face. He knew what he would see there. He had witnessed it countless times. That pure, unadulterated power that she harnessed in the field that helped her persevere against even the most dominant enemy. And she wouldn’t make a single sound. He provided small words of encouragement while they both focused on the task at hand, thirty seconds passing in a blink. He squeezed her hand, indicating she could release his.

Pleased, he turned to face her. She was breathing heavily, chewing on her cheek. She was concentrating hard, and in an effort to provide support he caught a tear with his thumb before it could roll down her face and she felt like she had failed. His hand gently cupped her cheek, thumb wiping away the traitorous liquid. He knew his hand felt icey against the blood that heated her skin from the other side. This time, he hoped it provided a distraction against any emotion she didn’t want.

“You did an excellent job, dearest.” He caught and held her gaze. “I know it was hard.”

She stared at him for a moment and he thought he saw her eyes glaze over just a touch, but the moment passed and resolve replaced whatever was in her eyes. She nodded and he mimicked the gesture. He quietly wrapped her bandage around her arm, letting her retreat into herself and recover without feeling like she needed to fill the silence.

After tying the sling, but before sending her off, he wrapped a length of fade-touched silk along the length that rubbed her neck. It would hopefully provide a barrier against any further irritation. He patted her leg, regaining her attention and gestured for the stairs, excusing her while he started to clean up.

A couple of hours later, he returned to the second story to check on his patient. He found her nesting in the plush pillows, arm cradled to her chest, eyes closed. Amongst the items on the table lay a forgotten quill and the letter she had thrown out the window.

Read more from Window Seat on AO3

[fadetouchedsilk]

camellia mercar is the saddest wettest cat of a da protagonist i have and i didn't even get a say in that characterization but here we are. this game is Insane for making it look like everyone else is part of a groupchat that rook wasn't invited to but i guess i'm integrating that & coming out on the other side with something that's crossing into the territory of 'world's most unfortunate being, emotionally.'

anyway here's some comedic depression wherein i crank up the isolated vibes

so like. considerably less fun than Crypt Baby Rook, we have Abandoned Battlefield Baby Rook. which is already a very promising start /s

adoptive family was probably mostly fine? except being an elf it seems that she basically never left the property? which is like alright yeah sure tevinter is just Like That i guess. the important personal takeaway here is that a lot of time would have been spent on her Own and deeply under-socialized. this made her 1. something of a people pleaser and 2. Extremely weird if you paid enough attention for like .5 seconds.

absolutely internalized being Not Very Important at home & carries this for the rest of her life lmao. no one made her follow the 'do not speak unless acknowledged' rule, she put that one on herself.

isolation is The Only Coping Mechanism. she did not have friends, she had a string of pet rats over the years (acquired without permission). several of them were trained to do tricks. she had an abundance of free time by herself to do this.

unsurprisingly she's probably also tried whatever creative solo hobby you can think of

has absolutely internalized her lot in life as being sort of assigned to this role btw

in her mind 99.9% chance that varric assigned her a nickname because he didn't actually remember her name. this cannot be disproven, doesn't actually matter if it's the case.

not actually convinced that any of her fellow shadow dragons know who she is personally? (based on my vague memory of getting the letter from viper but then also the game introducing me to him in conversation like this was the first time we'd met. wild.)

(aside from having a general interest in wanting to make a difference, she also initially found the idea of the shadow dragons appealing because it was a cohesive group working towards a common goal, which felt like a good place to try and meet people right?)

(she does not manage to progress past Work Acquaintances Status with anyone. unfortunately. she justifies this with the idea that 'they probably already know enough people/maybe i wouldn't like hanging out with them anyway/maybe they didn't know if i drank or not and didn't want to make things weird, etc etc)

not invited to group hangouts at the lighthouse--this is an assumption borne of the fact that she's, yknow, pretty preoccupied with making sure we all don't watch the world explode & Die & also the whole 'alone = familiar' thing. it's an Incorrect assumption, she Does want to go to the group hangouts but legitimately has no idea how friendship dynamics operate outside of literal rats.

will say this is 100% fine with her, she's just happy everyone is getting along

(it's not fine. this sentiment is delivered with the energy of someone who is keeping a list of potential 13th reasons)

finds out about book club night after the fact. is trying so very hard to be chill about it, knows that she's stepped out of her typical role as a background character but that doesn't automatically mean that the rest of the status quo will shift along with that. (she is privately not chill about it & is in fact very sad)

you know those people who are very good at asking others about themselves & since they're always around you just Assume that it must be mutual, only to sit there and realize you don't even know what their favourite colour is or like literally anything else about them? yeah.

she wants to ask if anyone knows what her name is for real but is also afraid of the answer lol

you might be asking yourself, why does she allow this to keep happening? why not Say Something? & to that i say, look, we've all been in a situation where we try to make friends with an established group & how awkward that can be even if you're a more secure person. this is like that except she's in real time watching people become better friends with each other (since it's Not an established group) & none of them are choosing her :')

(we love residual childhood wounds) so, so willing to just roll with being the afterthought or more of a Concept of a person who happens to be useful instead of drawing attention to the problem & making things worse (worse how? she doesn't know, it's just the nebulous concept of Worse)

certain that the only two beings she know for sure actually like spending time with her would be Manfred and Assan. assan is food motivated though so that's toeing the line a bit. but manfred definitely likes being around her! that's a win. that's her only win.

she's a genuinely nice person she's just incredibly convinced she's going to go through life Alone & acts accordingly. it's not anyone's fault, that's just how it is.

this becomes painfully funny when she's dealing with solas or solas-as-varric

solas does not have to work hard to convince her that she's the odd man out or spin things to make it look like she's disliked so that he can manipulate her more easily. no no. there's at least a part of every fade conversation where she reveals some sort of crushingly lonely habit she's developed & is weirdly kind of relieved that at least He's taking some time to ask how she's holding up (never mind that this is a verbal hostage situation)

she kills his vibe so hard without trying lmfao.

'god i wish the inquisitor was here,' he thinks for the Nth time that week. 'isenril would have thrown a chair at me by now if i tried this with her. i miss that dynamic. she would just yell at me. i know how to work with that. this just feels. Bad.' it's like kicking a puppy except the puppy has been conditioned to accept it & has settled into resignation.

it's worse when he has to pretend to be varric. small mercy there is that she hasn't spent nearly as much time around him as the inquisitor but god. solas is Not a comforting person.

he's So uncomfortable whenever she sounds like she's going to start crying & has never pivoted to a different subject in a conversation so fast in his life. ('there there. you're uh. you're doing Great i'm sure everyone is noticing.')

like. he's still going to try and switch places with her in the fade at some point but he's not even certain she would argue about it afterwards.

he does not love the fact that she doesn't have Friends at the lighthouse because this means he's the default. he's done a lot of fake-napping mid-conversation with varric. give this man a daytime emmy. (he's cornered himself, no one else can see him so he can't even orchestrate a relationship with someone else to pawn her off on. he's in hell.)

also elgar'nan didn't even say anything specific to tempt her when they faced off lmao. everyone Else got a personalized taunt but not her (do you ever take it personally when even the god who wants you dead can't even bother to find out some basic wants of yours or are you normal)

the way no one checks in on her after minrathous. lol. lmao.

she's not going to hold it over neve for being upset. that would be insane & also she knows she's not being blamed for real, it's just a bad situation.

but also she does feel maybe like everyone Else might be blaming her? maybe just a bit?

guys you know i live there too right. guys. you know i made the decision because i thought that treviso would have the weaker defences & we would have had a better chance right. you know i'm not any more powerful than anyone else & had no way of knowing i would also be destroying My own home, right? Right???

yeah this is one of those moments where she removes herself from the situation and just breaks in private. she doesn't dislike neve at all (she wishes she was cool like that tbh, people seem to like neve much more in general. even the wisps seem to prefer neve over her) but one can only take so much concern for someone who is in the Exact Situation You're In without so much as a word directed your way.

also she feels irrational guilt for the choice so it doesn't help with the whole Feeling Punished thing

(again not like she Knew what would happen!! it seemed the more logical choice based on what she knew)

the catch 22 with withdrawing is that people tend to assume that you don't want them to intrude on your privacy, which becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy if you already suffer from Terminal Lonely Disease. no one has seen rook since we got back really = she must be fine & not want help so we'll leave her to it = 'oh god they must Really not care about me all that much'

unfortunate situation where like. yeah she probably could have made things more obvious when it comes to connection efforts but also that shouldn't be one-sided effort either you know?

she's also fully expecting this to transfer over to any surviving faction members & if they don't end up hating her for it, it doesn't compute.

the relationship with lucanis is just. a comedy of errors & poorly communicated intentions tbh.

she likes him a lot but because he's the way he is there's no reason to think this is anywhere close to mutual

he remembered what she likes to drink but she also knows that he's the one typically making the grocery lists so like. yeah no shit he remembered she isn't special.

she's not a Confident flirt but the one thing she has going for her is that it's fairly obvious so she's pretty sure he's noticed he's just not into her. which is fine! no expectations so no disappointment!

maybe some disappointment

honestly she feels like she's made more of a connection with spite than anyone else at this point. spite likes her, spite Wants to talk about her. spite would be actively interested in seeing any of the rats she's trained at the lighthouse & would do so without making her feel silly for it.

(she's trained two. the have recall & can jump through a small hoop & she's working on object retrieval. these are new rats she grabbed as coping mechanisms at some point because it felt more reactive than talking to the fish in the tank.)

this only goes so far because of the body sharing thing (she thinks it might be crossing some sort of boundary) but the point is that the Literal Demon is somehow the only being who seems to actively enjoy her presence & make this fact known

unsurprisingly the Almost Kiss makes spite insane. 'lucanis why are you upsetting my best friend rook. are you stupid i think you might be stupid. she's not going to come here anymore do you understand that. she's crying. look at what you did.'

guess who starts aggressively avoiding group mealtimes (on purpose this time not like 'oh sorry everyone already ate, there's leftovers though') & the pantry in general. at some point she just starts her own mini pantry in her room to avoid crossing paths.

you thought she spent time on her own before? you haven't seen the 'i got my hopes up & it went nowhere which i Should have expected so i'm not even mad about it really but i am humiliated & feel very stupid for actually wanting something & don't want to talk about it' version of Isolation yet. it's real bad lmao.

like she's still going out & doing her job and also helping the rest of the team is at least something else to focus on (but gosh it sure would be nice if literally anyone asked if she was doing okay)

spite would like to do that but he's Not Allowed and couldn't be more unhappy lmfao.

(note: this will not even be remotely addressed until after 'inner demons.')

the 'i made you a dessert' lock in scene doesn't translate at alllll. he thinks he's being So Smooth & So Obvious (it's not another gifted knife without context). in his mind this was a success. as far as she's concerned this was literally just about dessert.

slowburn is great. he's treating every conversation like actual relationship progression & she's like. well we're friends again i think i'll just be happy with that much.

low self worth & self doubt keep her stagnant

fade prison break out is. something else. it's been an unpleasant hour for her & a month for everyone else. harding is dead bellara got Grabbed by the blight & solas is Loose. everyone is having a great time. super fantastic.

girl is legitimately surprised there was That much of an effort to find her since she's lost the dagger & solas isn't in her head anymore (not that she's complaining)

atp her only goal is to try & un-fuck everyone's lives as much as she can before something inevitably takes her out (she is not the hof she is not the inquisitor she assumes she Will be dying at some point soon thanks)

fucking news to her that she's apparently been in a relationship for at least the duration of her time in the fade. that talk ends up much the same way as we see it play out but not before a Lot of incredibly distressed clarifications.

this isn't lucanis getting dragged he feels So goddamn bad holy shit. spite feels vindicated finally, he was Correct & his human counterpart really should have just listened to him instead of whatever the fuck he was trying to do.

anyway the lesson here is that you waste a whole lot of time getting wrapped up in your own issues when you Could have been going on actual dates instead (this is a call out for both of them they're both annoying about it)

by the end of things she still doesn't. really feel 100% part of the group lmfao but it's maybe not as terrible?

i also just think as a professor emmrich has had More than enough students break down in his office to recognize her particular flavour of instability. he's probably going to end up putting in some extra effort. perhaps he will even learn about some of her hobbies & even coax her into doing them outside of her room or on one of the private balconies

bellara also likes her i think she just has horse blinder style hyperfixations & forgets regular socialization. time blindness will hit her like a truck. it's fine.

camellia Needs to be explicitly told that she's getting a good grade in friendship, something that's both totally normal to want & possible to achieve

she still doesn't like to tell people about the trained rats though because when she inevitably explains Why she knows how to train rats she realizes as she says it that her childhood was actually probably pretty sad sounding.

actually every time she starts to talk about how she grew up she kind of stops herself halfway through like Huh. actually maybe that wasn't as fun as i remember it being you're looking at me with concern.

anyway she knows how to cross stitch & does watercolours. those are her main things. please show some interest in them she's dying to talk about them but will not take the floor on her own.

please stop calling her rook also she's losing her mind & it's been so long at this point she doesn't know how to address it :')