#rook Belisma

[rom-e-o]

A consideration to brighten your day:

Emmrich and Wifey stretched out on the couch cuddling, Em's head resting on her chest as she strokes his head and shoulders, humming softly.

Then Manfred comes along, sees, and, like a clingy toddler pushes/pulls Emmrich up and away from Wifey's embrace. "No! Me! Me!" He quickly crawls right into Em's previous spot and settles stubbornly, and happily, there on Mum's chest. And she just laughs and comfortably snuggles him in with kisses all over his skull.

But also!

The exact same thing happening but flipped, with Manny forcing Wifey out of Papa's snuggles and replacing her.

Awwwww, this is too precious!!! 🥹💕

Wifey just stroking his hair softly, placing a kiss on his hairline and earning a besotted chuckle. They’re curled up on the chaise together after a long day. They’ve both just collapsed in a heap, tired from a long day. Maybe he and Guinevere have just come back from mingling at a long soirée, or he and Belisma are relaxing after a day of practicing funerary rites. Something that has tuckered both of them out, and requires some refueling through quality time.

The couple is lounging away, when Manfred pops his head in the door. “Papa? Mama/Mum?”

He sees them cuddling, and after only a moment, jingle-jangles his way inside. Those jeweled doorknobs (?) in his eyes rotate slightly upward.

Manfred, surprisingly strong, squeezes his way in. Emmrich gives his boy an incredulous chuckle (“Manfred, my boy, honestly!”) while Wifey just laughs. They allow themselves to be separated while Manfred settles over Wifey, cuddling like a little kitten or toddler. I feel like G’iney might be more familiar with seeing those toddler moments in him and identifying them as such (since she has siblings) but Belisma is just as amused and endeared to his antics.

W: Aww, Manfred! Why, hello there.

E: Was he jealous?

Manfred lets out a little hiss, inching closer to his mom while she laughs and leave little lipstick-marked kisses on his skull.

W: Not anymore, haha! I’m sorry, my dear. I’m afraid you’ve been replaced.

E: (mock offense) ‘Replaced’?

W: Look on the bright side - you were just saying how you wanted to change into your dressing gown but didn’t want to get up to do it. So, he just decided to lend a bit of a helping hand. In his own, charming way, of course.

E: As always. (Rolling his eyes with a laugh) Manfred, always so helpful.

M: (Pleased hiss)

I love little Manfred doing it to both of them, haha. Emmrich claims at first Manfred is just an apprentice and friend, but we know better. Once he and Wifey are together, I imagine some of that childlike wonder/possessiveness comes out a little bit more. And especially after Manfred gives his life for Emmrich, and he brings him back? There are many more hugs and soft gestures.

The next time, when Wifey and him and snuggling and getting ready to exchange some kisses (maybe get a little handsy) Manfred suddenly shuffles over, gloved hands going to Wifey’s shoulders. He pulls her back, and SHAMELESSLY settles right in her spot, kicking his little boot-covered feet in glee at his antics. Emmrich lets out a loud laugh and Wifey feigns shock.

E: Oh, you little scoundrel!

M: (Mischievous hiss)

W: Oh, I see how it is.

They exchange loving looks over Manfred’s giggly skull. This is their life now, they think, and honestly. It’s perfect. Emmrich settles and arm around his boy and kisses his forehead. “Oh, Manfred. Whatever in the world would we do without you?”

And neither of them will have to ever know. 💕

[rom-e-o]

When your leader/Rook is a Nevarran ballet dancer, it makes sense to train through dancing! Dexterity training, you know.

No other reason.

[rom-e-o]

NSFW Alphabet Headcanons (Emmrich/F!Rook)

Well, after waiting 10 years for Veilguard to come out, I’ve been enjoying it! So much so that I’ve gotten very carried away with my F!Rook OC, Belisma Ingvellar. And completely fell in love with her relationship with Emmrich.

@quill-pen had the amazing idea to do this exercise for them, sooo … away we go~ Thank you, and I hope it's a fun read!

Some background: Belisma is a 35-year-old Mourn Watch mage. Bookish and a bit awkward (she’d rather read tomes and dance ballet than lead troops against ancient gods), but she has a kind heart and can’t say no, especially when nobody else deserves the stress of saving the world.

18+ only OC content below cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Although she’s usually completely tuckered out after every tryst with Emmrich, Belisma always offers to assist with aftercare and clean-up. However, being the strict gentleman he is, Emmrich will not let her lift a finger.

Does she need a washcloth? He will fetch it, and make sure it’s soft and warm. Does she want water? He’ll get a pitcher. He’s even offered to carry her to the tub (Belisma is a fairly slender woman, about 110 lbs, but even then, she doesn’t love the idea of him carrying her in such an exhausted state.) He’ll do it though, and run her bath too.

Emmrich is a giving and sensual man, before, during and after any and all activities.

"Emmrich, this is too much! You don’t need to …" "Nothing is too much for you, my dearest. And I assure you, when we’re here, like this, I enjoy every moment."

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Emmrich: His favorite body part of hers is her collarbone. Just watching how the cords of her neck lead into those symmetrical, flared clavicles captivates him. He loves to run his lips along the bone, all the way to the acromion bump on the outer edge of the scapula. The delicate but complex bone structure is always something he’d admired during educational dissections, but that fascination takes on new meaning when he feels her skin flutter and flush beneath his lips during kisses. She feels alive. It’s exhilarating.

If asked what his favorite part of his body is, at first, he’d say his hands. But if you really pressed him to be honest, his arms. You don’t hold your limbs aloft and spend hours conjuring the dead with the grace of a musical conductor without getting some nice definition.

These are also the parts of him that he most adorns in jewelry and grave gold via rings and bracelets.

Belisma: She loves his back muscles and spine. Emmrich will say he’s too slender or thin, and that his ribs are too noticeable, but she disagrees. Watching the muscles of his back move and flex, even when he does something as simple as shift in his sleep, hypnotizes her. Those amazing shoulder blades, the contour of his spine … she kisses each point often. Sometimes Emmrich rolls over to return her kisses. Other times, gods forgive him, he feigns sleep so he can lay there and let her do it. Because it feels amazing, and he still can’t believe he’s not dreaming.

She loves her hair. It’s long and braided, and strong as a dang rope from how she tends to it. Also, from her years dancing ballet, she does think her calves are nice (and they are – she EARNED those muscles).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Emmrich is a fastidious and tidy man. That being said, bodily fluids don’t disgust him. They’re natural, after all, especially when specific activities and positions are involved.

After eating her out, the scent and taste of her arousal lingering on his lips and moustache delights him. As does the aroused look on her face when he licks it off.

Belisma, also being a member of the Mourn Watch and also having clinical experience, views bodily fluids somewhat neutrally. They don’t turn her on specifically, but she knows her own wickedness and uses them to her advantage. If he drips or cums on her early or too soon, she won’t clean herself up. Instead, she’ll slide her fingers through it, bring it to her lips, or use it as lube on his cock.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

They could never do it, but they share fantasies of it – having sex at his work desk in the Lighthouse. And not quickies – full, bold, sensual, fully-undressed sex. With the doors open. The idea delights, but no. Even if their companions knew to stay away, Manfred would not. And Hezenkoss would be HIGHLY displeased.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Emmrich is quite experienced. He’s been with ladies and gentlemen, and knows his charms (as well as his likes and dislikes in the bedroom). He’s dated and easily found companionship, but each eventually fell through. He always wanted love, commitment and marriage. He's in it for the long-run.

Belisma dated some, but her only serious relationship was with another mage named Cyril. They separated because, surprise, he didn’t want commitment. And for Belisma, he wasn’t worth the effort.

Neither are virgins, but Belisma definitely isn’t as experienced as he is. He did have a head start, though, haha, to be fair. He groans when she playfully brings that up.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Belisma loves to ride him. She gets to feel him proudly jutting up into her, and he gets to lean back and focus solely on grinding up into her. Win-win. After she comes, she switches to more of a bouncing motion, which quickly brings him to whimpering ruin beneath her.

Emmrich gets to admire her face, feel her bum smacking his thighs, and watch her small tits bounce with each thrust. So, it gets a thumbs-up from him too. Doggy-style is also favorite because of how deep it allows him to go.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Emmrich takes romance and sex very seriously. After all, like we established, he is a man who wants love. True love. Marriage. He wants a lifelong commitment and partnership. As such, he takes lovemaking very seriously. He’s not a silent statue during it, of course, but he’s not cracking jokes, haha. He wants to make sure she feels good, is enjoying herself, and is as ‘in the moment’ as he is. He’s attentive.

He might smile and laugh afterward, when they’re laying together in the afterglow of it all, but in the moment? He is very serious and focused.

Belisma is also quite serious when it comes to their time in bed together. She’s a little awkward and bookish, and she knows that. If she tries to joke or force levity, it would ruin the mood and come across as less than genuine, and she values him too much for that.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

We know Emmrich is meticulous about grooming, bathing and shaving.

He’s got some salt-and-pepper chest hair that matches the thatch between his legs, but he’s not overly hairy otherwise. Pretty sparse, to match his in-game model. He bathes daily (and after any workout/battle) and always takes care to present himself perfectly with the poise and grace expected of him.

Belisma will get so engrossed in work that she’ll accidentally go days without bathing, but she wouldn’t sleep with Emmrich in those moments. She’d bathe before any intimacy. For her hair, she washed and makes sure to condition, oil, brush and smooth it properly. Her hair, ideally, is braided. If it’s braided and up, she needs to wash it. If she’s donned a hood, it’s … been a rough/busy week. She does shave her legs and under her arms. Between her legs, she keeps hair trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Emmrich and Belisma are slow, sensual lovers. Nothing is fast, frantic, or quick. They always take their time with foreplay and undressing. LOTS of slow kissing, sighs and words of affirmation. The romance of every encounter is very important and non-negotiable for them. Both are very likely to set up their rooms or even decorate.

For example, if Emmrich plans to bring Belisma to his chamber, the bed is made and cleaned, a fire is roaring with cinnamon-scenter timber. There will be wine, music and a gradual build-up to their coupling.

Belisma will do the same. If he comes to her quarters, she makes sure to clean the entire room beforehand, and make sure everything is perfumed. She also makes dinner for him frequently (rarebit is a favorite), and always makes hazelnut torte for dessert. She even has sleep clothes and a dressing gown for him (in lilac, his favorite color) at the ready.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

One they’re a couple, they do experiment with watching each other masturbate and seeing who gives in first and crosses the room to the other. (They keep a playful tally – a straight tie, right down the middle. The ‘loser’ from the previous time owes the other a drink for next time.)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Emmrich: Very light bondage, wax play (all those candles come in handy, and the dripping wax is exhilarating) and praise. This man yearns for sweet, sweet words.

Belisma: Praise. Praise, praise, PRAISE KINK all day long. She’ll try anything once (the candle wax is fun, she’ll admit).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Their bedrooms, mostly because they know they won’t be interrupted. By people, or by Manfred. Thankfully, even with gloves, his skeletal hands aren’t dexterous enough to turn a key in a locked door. Obviously, their first time was in the coffin in the Necropolis, which was also nice and private (but a bit cold).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

At the dinner date with Rook, he admits that it’s been a while since he’s enjoyed anyone’s company. Handling semesters of students, keeping matters at bay in the Necropolis, and teaching Manfred takes time, after all.

Emmrich really doesn’t need a ton of motivation, honestly. He’s been waiting for this forever – finding someone to love and cherish. Someone to read with in bed, or dance with at the end of a long night when gentle music enters through a cracked window.

As for what turns him on, he will admit that he loves to watch her dance. Belisma was a ballet dancer for many years after all. She’s graceful, and the art shows off her skeletal and muscular forms quite perfectly. Seeing her jump and twirl so effortlessly, hair spinning behind her, her cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat forming across her chest and face? Color him very interested.

Belisma gets turned on, honestly, by seeing him happy. He’s so reserved usually that seeing him get giddy or ramble about a new discovery or relic just makes her want to take his face between her hands and smooch him silly. Also, when he’s focused at his work desk, that also makes for quite a lovely picture. She’ll bring him tea and find him looking at thesis submission from student, glasses perched on his nose, head down, gaze focused. It’s a dreamy picture. Then, when he notices her, and his entire demeanor shifts to one of excitement (“Isma, darling! Hello!”) her entire body blushes every time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything non-con or sadistic is a no for both. Also, they are not interested in any third parties. Spectators or participants.

When she is in ANY kid of pain, it causes him immense distress.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Emmrich prefers to give oral. Not that he’ll say no to Belisma on her knees, taking him into his mouth (not at all) but it’s just not his preferred method of intimacy. He can’t see her face as well when she blows him, and honestly, he wants to be able to look at her. To admire the subtle changes in her expression during intercourse. Oral complicates that. Yet, he does LOVE to give oral. The entire time, his eyes stare up at her, watching her blissed out expression. He uses on hand to furiously pump his own cock while he moans and licks into her. The sounds alone are enough to bring him to ruin.

Belisma loves both. She’s a little shy about receiving it the first time, especially since Cyril never liked doing it) so he puts it off. What if she tastes/smells bad? What if she looks weird down there? Emmrich catches on eventually, and asks her:

“Isma, I can’t help but notice … when I’m pleasuring you, my hands and fingers are welcome, but when I lean down, you always stop me. I can only use my hands, if that’s why you want, but I want to be certain.” “Oh. I’m sorry. Um, yes, hands are fine. I’m used to that. I guess I’m just a little…” “Self-conscious?” “Yes. I’m sorry, that’s immature of me.” “Hardly. It’s a matter of immense vulnerability. Darling, we’ll move at your pace. If you’d like to try it, just say the word. I’ll just add this, if it happens to help; I know there are foolish schoolboys who think women should taste like sugar cubes and smell like roses between their legs. I am a man with no such expectations.”

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual, all the way. The only time things get ‘rough’ is when they’re about to climax. Emmrich will grab her hips and pick up the pace to something a little more punishing. Belisma will tug his hair and bit his shoulder as her body clenches around him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Nope. If there is not enough time for the full wooing process, there is no sex. I really can’t stress how important intimacy and romance is for these two, haha.

Emmrich especially. He’s a man, and his anatomy doesn’t require as much … preparation. Belisma? Without foreplay, things can be painful for her, and that thought sickens him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

They are way more game for experimenting than risk-taking. ‘Experimenting’ implies genuine interest and carnal fascination. ‘Risk-taking’ feels … unnecessary, haha. Like, would they risk having sex in their private theatre box next time they go see the Nevarran Ballet perform ‘Faustina’? No, not during the show. Buuut after the show ends, and they lock the door and pull the curtains? That’s an experiment in semi-public sex. Way more comfortable and controlled for them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

So, Emmrich is 52-55. Belisma is 35. They’re not mating like bunnies, but they have impressive stamina. Both are quick and spry on the battlefield. His refractory period is definitely existent, but that’s fine. They mostly talk between rounds, because frankly, that’s what they love most.

“My, that lilac lingerie was a delightful surprise. Where did you come across it?” “Oh, Neve recommended my to this fabulous boutique! A little pricey, but—” “Definitely worth it, if I may say so.”

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Both of them do, haha. You’re not single for decades without investing in some good tools to tide you over. They’re also both adults. I imagine Emmrich (who seems to have been quite the rambunctious/flirtatious youth) frequented them quite a bit as he found companionship with other ladies and gentlemen.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

They both loooove to tease the other. Flirtatious looks, winks, holding hands under the dinner table. It's fun, and for them, it's getting to enjoy that teenage-esque delight of being cute and in-love for a bit.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

They can be loud, but it’s harder for them. Stealing moments with each other and keeping things slow can sometimes mean their engagements are on the quieter side.

They sometimes need reminders that it’s okay to make noise. It’s okay to sigh, and moan, and cry out the other’s name. Belisma loves when Emmrich grunts or gasps against her. She’s so used to him appearing composed, it’s exciting being the one that makes such a gentleman comes beautifully undone.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Emmrich: After he starts seeing Belisma, his morning workouts and exercises become a little more intense. He wants to be able to keep up with her, you know. She’s around 20 years younger, after all.

As for Belisma: She had a stuffed nug from when her parents left her as an infant. It was bundled in her swaddling cloth. She still has it, and even sleeps with it sometimes. She does NOT want Emmrich to know (how embarrassing, she’s 35!) but Manfred finds it one day and brings it to her while she and Emmrich are talking.

“Pet!” “Where did you … Manfred, did you use your allowance to buy a toy? Hm … it looks well-loved.” Then Manfred gives it to Belisma. “Rook! Pet!” “Oh. Is that yours?” Emmrich asks, blinking.

Oh, she could have died on the spot. He just laughs and says it’s sweet. Then lightly chastises Manfred for going through people’s belongings.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

We’ve discussed body hair already. As for anatomy, Emmrich looks … decently endowed, honestly. There’s some noticeable cargo down there, even when he’s completely casual.

He’s quite thin and slender, especially with his height. His muscles are decently toned, but there is a softness to him. Nothing is cleanly cut or defined but he is trim. Even a little gaunt, especially around his ribs and hips.

Belisma is also very slender and thin. Even bony in some places. She has s smaller chest (B-cups) and noticeable hip dips.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

SO HIGH. They may not have the energy to mate like bunnies, but they go for hours. And they can jump in and out as needed. For example, they’ll make love, stop to make dinner, eat, then have sex again, then bathe (doing another round in the tub) then finish up with one last round in bed.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Belisma always falls asleep first. And she is out like a light, snoozing away. She also talks in her sleep, haha.

Emmrich takes time to fall asleep. It’s just harder for him, but watching her sleep and breathe beside him is an immense help for soothing his own worries. She calms him better than tea and lavender, and he’s at his most relaxed when they’re sharing a bed together, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

[rom-e-o]

*holds Manfred hostage* Spill the tea on Belismerich's proposal, or the skeleboy gets an earful of the nastiest, funnest-to-say swear words. ... Metaphorically speaking.

NO, MANFRED! 😭 (Although that does sound like a good time…I’m tempted. Manfred has gotten good grades lately, maybe he can say ‘fuck’ one, as a little treat.)

OKAY BUT YES - Belismerich proposal! To be honest, I had not thought about what this would look like specifically, so this was a really fun ask to receive! I had to think about it. We know Emmy says before the final battle that there is so much he wants to “say” and “plan” with Rook after they survive. (He can still die horribly in a cinematic after this if you mess up enough with your battle assignments, which KILLS ME INSIDE, but not in this universe.)

If you romance Bellara, she confesses something along the lines of, “Rook, I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I feel like I’ve know you forever” right before the end. So we don’t really know how long this adventure lasts. Maybe 6 months? Harding also teases Emmrich that “you and Rook are sort of moving quickly.” (Which is funny, his romance is the only one with multiple kisses and dates, whereas most of the other allies get … one/two kisses and bed scene rolled into one. So yeah, he’s amorous by comparison.)

So, after the final battle, I don’t think Emmrich jumps right into a proposal. Even with his lingering fear of death and insecurity about aging, I feel like his desire to give Rook a proper romance comes through, which is big for him. I do HC that, after they survive the final fight, they’re sitting together in a sickbay recovering, and Emmrich slips off one of his MANY rings and gives it to her.

(This gets long, so I’m inserting a “Read More”, haha.)

Belisma: Emmrich, what is…?

Emmrich: It’s…a promise to you.

Belisma: A promise? Emmrich, are you—

Emmrich: I-I know there is much we need to do. The cities needs to recover. The world needs to heal. The ancients are gone, and the everything has changed, my love. We need to rebuild, and mourn those we lost. But … through it all, no matter what we face, I want you to know my feelings were true. Are true. Our relationship was not a flight of fancy. I still long for you. For a future with you. If you’ll have me.

Belisma: Oh. I … Y-Yes. I’d very much love that.

I think Belisma worries Emmrich’s fancy for her might fade once she’s no longer the grand hero “Rook.” She goes back to being a normal, bookish Watcher with an affinity for ballet and jam sandwiches. Is their love the type that can shift from an environment of dangerous excitement to domestic bliss? Does he only love her because of her exciting, dashing hero persona and role?

With Belisma being a Watcher, I imagine it’s easy and natural for her to move into his lodgings in the Necropolis with Manfred. There is plenty of space, and it’s private. He takes an extended sabbatical, and works on making Rook feel at home. Their rooms were adjacent at the Lighthouse, but now? They’re sharing a bed. Rooms. A wardrobe.

Isma’s fears are quickly nullified as they spend more time quiet together. Walking the gardens, cooking together, reading together by the fire. They also walk the crypts hand-in-hand, and attend lectures/seminars together on necromancy. They tend to the funerary rites of all the people lost in that final battle, and as they prepare their bodies, they reminisce and pay very personal respects. They make sure Lace has a proper monument erected to honor her sacrifice. And they travel! They visit Treviso for the amazing markets, or Rivain to frolic the beaches properly. He always wanted to travel, and now he can. So, they still adventure a bit, but much more safely, haha. They also travel to provide aid across the country, especially to those needing assistance with burying/honoring their dead. It’s a sensitive process, and they are very, very tender.

They bond over teaching Manfred magic (there’s a few close calls with the flaming rocks.) She goes back to dancing ballet. He still privately tutors his most promising pupils, and grades assignments in is spare time.

It’s perfect. Then, six months in, he proposes.

The most obvious choice is the Memorial Gardens, but I imagine he also does it there because his parents are there. 🥹 And it’s private, and where they shared their first kiss.

They share wine and dinner, and end with a walk. Belisma expects nothing; they’ve done this make times before. Then, right at the end, he leads her off the path and to his parents graves. There, Manfred is standing with an overflowing bouquet, and a small box. But they aren’t offerings. He goes to them, takes them, and beckons her forward. She obeys, and he gifts her the flowers. Shroud’s Kiss, Blue Creepvine. Weeping Widower.

They walk eternity hand-in-hand, he reads. Their epitaph. “It’s always a sentiment that is touched me, even as a boy. Their affection so enduring that, even in death, they are intertwined. Bound by their mutual adoration. Their lives ended too soon, but they set a sterling example for what love could be. Should be. Warmth. Togetherness. I longed for that in my life. A-And with a loving soul to watch over or wait for, then join that new journey … even death itself seems more than bearable. With you.”

Soulmates, in every way.

Slightly breathless, he presents the ring, and sinks onto one knee while taking hers. “Flame of my heart, I ask … would you join me in that destiny? Will you marry me?”

He doesn’t trust himself to say much, because he’s so nervous. Here he is, on his knee before the woman he loves (and Manfred, lmao) laying his heart bare for her. The ring is gold with a smoky-quartz stone in the middle. It matches her hair and eyes.

Belisma buries her face in the bouquet, so happy she is without words, before nodding eagerly. Here she was, happy to be his love in all ways. But marriage? She’s almost 36 by now. She was content with being a quirky spinster/retired hero. Now, she’s wanted as a bride? As a wife. Her heart sings, and she wishes she could twirl.

“…My love, I need you to say it,” he says. “Please.” His heart can’t handle false hope.

“Yes,” she rushes to say, “I will … happily marry you, Emmrich Volkarin. Walk hand-in-hand with you for the rest of our mortal, and immortal, days. I want to share your life, your name, everything.”

The ring is slid onto her finger, and less than a second later, he rushes upward to crush her into a thankful, passionate kiss. “I’ll always love you,” he promises through pants. “Treasure you. Keep you company, and you’ll want for nothing, my dearest. I promise. Oh, I promise.”

Manfred turns away and shields his eyes with a squeal, then distracts himself with a rose bush (“Rose! Beautiful!”) Neither Belisma or Emmrich stop this, instead continuing to kiss and whisper loving please to each other between swipes of the tongue and sighs of delight.

Belisma also takes his name, which means a lot. After all, he’s the last Volkarin. And now, she has his name. She chose to be a part of his life, and his family. That, in addition to a long list of other things, leaves him besotted and hopelessly, undoubtedly, convinced he has found a soulmate in her.

[rom-e-o]

I need headcannons for Belismerich babies.

And in the same vein, I need headcannons for big brother Manfred.

BELISMERICH 💕 I’m honestly obsessed with the pairing name.

Okay, so babies! Yes. Tbh, I can imagine them having a family together. He’s obviously comfortable with the idea, with Manfred canonically being a son to him. Once the world is safe and sound and these two marry, Emmrich retains his position as a professor (though with a more lenient schedule). Belisma remains a Watcher in name, and she and Emmrich share responsibilities of reading rites to the dead, keeping the memorial gardens in check, etc. The couple is quite comfortable, emotionally and fiscally.

Manfred also continues to learn, becoming a mage in his own right and becoming more dexterous as well. He learns to open doors without help (the handles are tricky) and can even write basic words! He’s also learning to read. 🥹

So, with everything going so well, they decide that it’s time for them to have a family. F

I could see these two adopting a child (both being orphans, you know) and conceiving.

I see them with two babies: one boy (conceived) and a girl (adopted).

Emil (Boy):

He has Belisma’s dusty/ashy hair color, but Emmrich’s hazel eyes.

He becomes a dancer like his mama, loving ballet but being more prone to gymnastics. By the time he’s a schoolboy. he’s entertaining the other children with elegant flips and spins. And terrifying his teachers by climbing trees and buildings, then jumping off with perfume spins and flips.

He wants to be a Watcher, but also, a performer. This pleases both parents. As he gets also, he gets a sassy personality, haha. A little flippant (especially to the nobles; a bias he got from his father’s disdain for nobility, haha) but always serious when it comes to respecting others and the dead.

Em: He inherited your grace, my darling.

Isma: And your eyes. Not you mention your disdain for life-leeching nobility.

Em: Haha. When the wealthy learn that death plays no favorites, perhaps I’ll favor them more in turn.

As an adult, he’d be a rogue-type Watcher, favoring a bow and arrow.

Amaryllis (Girl):

The young girl wanders into the Grand Necropolis, crying and screaming that her Mother is missing. Agents go out, but the woman is never found, but a scrap of her dress is found near a rocky cliff.

Emmrich and Belisma have space in his lodgings for the girl, and the accommodations are quite nice. A private, spacious apartment with extra rooms and a library. By that time, Emil is born. Ama warms up quickly to the baby, and even likes Manfred. He’s easy to talk to, and brings her tissues. (“Crying. Good.”)

She’s a great baby-sitter, and Manfred teaches her fire magic. She learns magecraft fast, and Emmrich and Belisma (also being mages) are so proud.

They officially adopt her a year later, because she asks them to. They are more than happy to oblige.

She adopts her father’s love of botany, and wants to become a professor like him. 🥹

She’s very prim and proper, and quite mature for her age. She has very curly hair and is also taller, like Emmrich. She looks like she could be his biological daughter, haha.

As an adult, she would be a mage Watcher, and would love to one day assume her father’s post.

Now, BIG BRO MANFRED:

The teapot Manfred always carries? It actually belonged to Emmrich’s mother. One of the few items he kept to remember her by. Manfred is trusted with it, so obviously, he is trusted openly with carrying very valuable possessions.

Manfred carries Emil a lot, in his arms and in a baby bjorn. He actually is sad if he doesn’t get his quality time with the infant. At home, Manfred is always peering into the bassinet, or sitting with them by the fire, supervising. When they get too close, he pushes them back. “No. Hot! Bad!”

He swaps out his travel gear for being a walking diaper/baby bag, haha. His ribs are filled with blankets, toys, etc.

With Ama, he loves going on walks with her. He’s a great listener (haha) and is very kind. He’s a little easier for her to talk to at first than the others.

As she gets more into gardening, he’s out there helping her plant blue creepvine, Shroud’s Kiss, and other adored blooms.

And if boys dare to shout rude remarks at her. They get a VERY hostile hiss.

[rom-e-o]

“Rook” Belisma and Emmrich. 💕

I’m not brave enough to try his coat yet, haha.

[rom-e-o]

Character assessment check.

Not that the idea of the wonderful man being completely swept off his feet by a ravenously passionate wifey and left breathless and surprised on the regular by her voracity isn't completely delicious and tantalizing--what about Emmerich surprising Wifey by being that way with her first, once he's certain of her affections. You can't tell me this man wouldn't go searching for her to find her alone in a room and sweeping her into a mind-numbing make out sess just because he "was craving a taste of the sweetness that is her mouth". And then he just struts off, leaving her melted, flushed, and braindead, to go give Manfred a magic lesson. All while casually remarking, "We'll continue this matter later, my darling Rook. Don't make any plans."

Ohhh, I adore this.

We know Emmrich is a bit of a tease (“If you insist~” and all that, haha) SO it makes sense that he’d enjoy ruffling Rook’s feathers. Past all his adorable bluster and that nerdy 50-something professor persona, he is still a very experienced man in the realm of romance.

I don’t blame him for fooling around juuuust a little bit, just to see what reactions he gets, especially as things become more intimate in their relationship.

Earlier that day, I imagine he spots Rook doing something particularly alluring (watching Belisma dance, or seeing Guinevere working gleefully on her next gown) and it brings such a smile to his face. It also stirs an undeniable fondness in him that diving back into work simply can’t quell.

So, later that evening, he abandons his desk and walks to Wifey’s room to seek her out.

He finds her in her room, and thankfully, she’s alone.

“Dearest.”

“Oh, Emmrich! What a lovely surprise—”

She can barely get the words out before he saunters toward her. Man has a terrible poker face, so there is a devilish glint in his eyes. His hands fly to her hips, steadying her as he pulls her into a feverish, longing kiss. She squeaks in surprise, but folds quite quickly, angling her head and tangling her fingers in his silver-streaked hair.

“I saw you before,” he purrs against her parted lips before surging in again for another searing kiss. “What an exquisite being you are, my dear. Everything you do … inspires such ardent admiration.”

Even in the middle of a kiss, he speaks such easy poetry. It's even prettier when it's flavored with his gasps and moans.

Just as Wifey begins to lose herself in the kiss, he surprises her again by placing his hands under her bum and lifting her onto the nearest table. With her now at eye-level, he leans in and deepens the kiss, using the furniture for valuable leverage to tip her backwards. This forces her arms around his neck, and even a leg over his narrow hips, but she does not mind. His hands start to roam, inching upward with careful poise. She shudders, hips rutting forward in anticipation for what is to come, when suddenly—

He breaks the kiss.

Breathless, and with his lips moistened from their necking, he reaches up and runs his thumb across her chin. His hazel eyes, pupils blown wide, meet hers. The heat within his gaze is undeniable.

“Apologies,” he says, smirking slightly, “But I still have work to attend to.”

She blinks at him, slowly. Once. Twice. “W-Wha…?”

“Manfred’s magic lessons, of course. I must tend to this, my dear. If you'll please excuse me."

Then, just as quickly as he appears, he turns on his heel cheekily and makes his way to the door.

"We'll continue this matter later, my darling Rook,” he tells her with his usual, formal cadence. Well, at least at first. Then his tone drops an octave – just as it did when he first showed her glimpses of the Fade. “Don't make any plans."

The authoritative tone earns a simpering sigh as she watches him leave, blushing and disheveled from the encounter. And, most importantly, craving him.

It is not a challenge for her to keep that promise. In fact, it’s all she can think about.

And by the time he swings open that chamber door again, she is quite ready for him.

"This time," she says, strutting to him and seizing him by the top of his waistcoat, "You are not slipping away."

She gently pulls him inside, the door shutting behind them with a echo, and the sound of a sturdy lock clicking into place.

[rom-e-o]

A Moment of Weakness (Emmrich/OC)💚F!Rook

The game isn't even out. We don't know Emmrich's personality, VA, ... really, anything beyond the bare bones as I write this ... but I couldn't help myself! I hope this little story is enjoyable, despite inaccuracies, haha!

TW: alcohol mention/mild tipsy behavior.

It had started with a simple sentence, but one that Emmrich immediately realized was shrouded in complex sentiment.

Hours before, Belisma (“Rook”, as she was affectionately called) had knocked on the door to his study and invited him to share a drink with him. More specifically, she had wanted to toast a successfully long day of battles and negotiations by imbibing together at the Lighthouse, a base that was unnerving as it was beautiful. She had even surprised him with a dusty bottle of red imported right from Nevarra. It carried the region’s distinct fruity notes; a stark contrast to the stench of death and semi-permanent haze of stale incense the region was known for.

Perhaps that was why such bottles were so coveted. Even he, with all his knowledge and history of the reason, carried not the knowledge of a versed sommelier. He did know, however, that the drink was strong.

The drink had boosted their spirits quickly, and loosened lips even more so.

Moments before, he'd been laughing amicably at an amusing anecdote she'd told him about an awkward encounter with a former suitor. Quite the crude young man, from what the woman had described. Hardly someone suitable for a woman like her, he'd thought.

Then, she’d let the sentence slip.

"I’m glad I can be useful here … I’m more suited for the battlefield than a quiet life anyway.” Then, she added, "Could you imagine … me, with a husband waiting for me back home? What poor soul could I do that to?”

Emmrich, dressed casually in a starched shirt and trousers (but still adorned in his rings and jangling bangles), paused to flick his gaze at present company.

"What?"

With a little hiccup, she allowed herself to sink against the weight of the table. "It's amusing, isn't it?"

"What is?" Emmrich prodded, a silver brow lifted. Her self-deprecating words had sobered him. "The thought of you with … a husband?”

"Right," she said. "Or a lover or ... someone of similar station. Even if someone was interested, I have nothing to offer. Mages aren’t exactly known for their large dowries and influence – even the wealthiest ones – compared to normal nobles.”

She paused, her eyes drifting askance as she tapped her nails on the oak table. “That was what he said, anyway.”

"Who?"

"Cyril," she reminded him. "I just told you about him. He was my last ... suitor, I suppose. I was 25. We met in a Circle. It feels like yesterday, but... his words stuck. Evidently."

The man gently lowered his chalice onto the table, the sweet wine forgotten. His eyes, rimmed with intrigue but touched with sadness, examined her. While a devoted scholar, Emmrich was also a man with decades of experience working with peers of many ages and backgrounds. Many called him a gentleman for the ways he seemed to invite conversation and put others at ease, but he preferred to his he simply put proper effort into listening. He leaned in, encouraging her to say more.

The silent prodding bore fruit. "I mean, it's inarguable. Look at me."

He did. He had been since they'd started working alongside each other.

He saw a lovely woman, just a small handful of years younger than him. She was a head shorter than him, with a feminine but muscled build from years of training as a mage and honing her skills. Her jaw, cut perfectly square enough to put the gems on any viscount's ring to shame, was adorned with bright eyes and lips that were ... very pleasant.

Her eyes reflected the color of freezing cold sap, tapped from the tree of Emprise du Lion. Her lips, painted with a swatch of coral, looked full and soft as far as he could tell. He hadn't been blessed enough to feel them pillow against his skin, but he could imagine. Her skin bore a light tan, and her hair swung gaily over her shoulders with each spin and flip on the battlefield. Starlight-gray waves sprouted from her scalp, and he thought they framed her face beautifully. Elegantly.

"I ... see you," he said carefully. He stammered a moment, eyes still searching for what she could mean. “I see you quite well, as a matter of fact.”

To him, she looked like a partner anyone would be lucky to have.

"Well, there you go," she added with a light, almost flippant laugh.

"I fail to see what's funny."

"...Emmrich, you don't have to be polite," she said, her voice becoming softer as a result of his stern but inquisitive tone. “I’m not a child.”

"I am being honest, with the politeness always secondary," he reminded her. “Lucanis can testify to that.”

A tense beat of silence passed. Before he could speak up, she sighed and pushed her chalice away. It flared bottom skipped lightly across the uneven wood grain. "I-I'm sorry. That's my cue. I’ve had enough to drink, I believe."

Another shaky laugh left her. Emmrich heard a telltale tremble in her voice, and rose to pursue her.

"Belisma, wait—”

"I’m sorry," she said, cutting him off. Palm flattening against the wall to better support her weight, she made her way toward the great hall's door to exit.

It only took one hobble for him to round the table after her. "You’re unsteady. I'll walk you."

"Please. Stay."

A man of many years, he could easily transcribe her true request from the dismal look on her face: “Keep back and let me go.”

So, he did.

Not one to disobey their leader, especially when she requested something so simple, he respected her desire for space. Falling back, he watched her go. She did not falter again, from what he could see.

Her shadow eventually slinked out of the room and to the left, which was the path he knew led to her quarters. As he watched her vanish into the night-darkened halls of the base, regret filled his lungs like sea water.

He should have said something sooner.

Night.

Night in the Fade was … very similar to the day, he had to admit. It wasn’t even really night, he supposed. Just an agreed upon hour where they all stole moments of slumber between onslaughts of enemies.

Back home, night was the most comfortable hour for the necromancer, as it shrouded the work in a silver-tinted darkness. Temperatures cooled, and his mind could home in better on his duties as an esteemed member of the Mourn Watch. Night was a time for study; a time for work. A time for solving problems he refused to let fester.

Here, the air still shimmered like mica, but the sky did not grow inky like it did in the mortal realms. Its comforts felt somewhat hollow, but it was all he had, so he took them.

When the Lighthouse was quiet save for his footsteps, he left his chamber and began to walk.

Emmrich knew his destination, in theory. There was a sparse list of places their Rook would, or could, travel to for relaxation. One of those areas was a small room located a few floors up, overlooking the Fade’s ever-twitching horizon. A small, stone room where mages could practice magic without risk of rogue spells hurting others.

Upon arriving at the room, he heard her voice from within. Grunts and yells of exertion peppered the otherwise quiet air. The older man took a deep breath, which served the dual purpose of bolstering his confidence as well as calming his racing heart.

He knocked. A beat of silence passed.

Then, a voice called from beyond the iron-enforced frame. "Come in."

A pleasant voice. A kind, womanly, familiar voice that could lure enamored men to burn their tomes for her.

Ignoring that he fit into that category all too neatly himself, he swallowed and entered the chamber. As he laid his palm against the frame, the metal was warm to the touch, even through his adorned glove.

The room was built from stone, top to bottom, with only a few slots to serve as windows. They also provided the handy attribute of ventilation, as this chamber was one mages utilized to train their abilities.

It was quite common to enter the training room to find the air crackling with electricity, or to nearly slip on ice-covered stones from the last mage practicing a bout of freezing spells.

In this case, Belisma appeared to be practicing fire magic. Her staff drawn and the smell of cinder permeating the air, she turned and gave the visitor a smile. The iron-clad tip of her staff still burned red-hot in the semi-darkness as she turned to him.

"Oh! Emmrich."

She looked pleased to see him on the surface, but he knew her better by now. There was a slight, nervous way her lower eyelids would upturn when she peered at him, like she was squinting through him, as if to see better intentions.

Nodding, he risked a step forward. "I thought I heard you in here. I ... wanted to check on you."

Although he spoke carefully, her face still fell at his admission. "Ah. Because of earlier."

"Yes, earlier."

A measured sigh snaked in and out of her lungs.

"It … was a moment of weakness," she confessed, hands dropping to her sides. He noticed with a heavy heart that she cast her gaze to the opposite corner of the room. An obvious sign of shame. "I shouldn't have burdened you with that. I'd had too much to drink and ... I suppose the ghosts of the past got a hold of me. I apologize."

"You needn’t apologize for that," he said kindly. "You're hardly the first one to divulge personal secrets over a chalice of wine, and I'm sure you'll be far from the last."

Her brown eyes sought his. "W-Well, when you put it like that ... perhaps you're right."

"I often am," he teased.

She smiled at that, and his heart leapt again. Gods above, how had any man made the woman before him feel unworthy of affection. Had time-altering spells been more his forte, he might have chanced traveling back a few decades just to clobber the fool with a skull. Or two. Perhaps a dragon skill, if he could lift it. Taash could help, he reasoned.

As the silence spurred his thoughts, it quieted hers in tandem. She sighed, tapping the leather-wrapped end of her staff’s hilt against the floor.

In a split second, bright sparks flitted between the crevices in the stone, snaking their way upwards through the narrow channels until the fire leads to the wicks of the candles adorning the room's small chandelier. With the formerly cavernous room now aglow with firelight, he could more keenly observe a notable flush to her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I'm glad I didn't scare you away from wanting to talk to me."

He snorted in amusement. "It'll take more than banter to scare me, dear."

The realization of the term slipping out hit too late, and he cleared his thought awkwardly. "I-I've seen more death than some armies, you know. So n-no. Not scared at all. No."

He heard her chuckle warmly at his stammering. Perhaps she found it endearing, he hoped.

Nonetheless, fighting his own blush now, a hand lofted to scratch his temple. It was also his turn to look away, lest he become lost in those syrupy eyes again.

“I promise to hold my drink better when we hold our next private celebration,” she noted gaily. “You won’t have to listen to an old maid ramble, haha. Nobody here needs that in our only place of respite.”

Just as Emmrich had turned to scuttle away, he was lured back. “Stop that.”

She paused, glancing up at him. “Hm?”

“Stop with the self-depreciating comments, Belisma.”

Unlike his voice before, which had wavered from boyish shyness, his tone in the moment was pure bravado. He allowed himself to take pleasure in watching her cheeks turn cherry-red. Despite the color that bloomed on her face, her eyes remained glued to him.

“E-Emm—”

“You are a woman of immense talent and beauty, and while I enjoy your company here more than the company of any other, I cannot abide by you taking every opportunity to be so disparaging of yourself.”

He took a step toward her, and Maker, she stayed in place. He didn’t so much as take a breath as he dared to advance another. Before he knew it, it had crossed the threshold between them enough for their chests to barely touch. He couldn’t help but note that she was even more captivating from this angle.

“You are our leader, a talented mage, and your dedication to leading us through this rather unprecedented situation is nothing short of remarkable,” he reminded her.

“You think—”

“You call yourself an ‘old maid’? Please. You are an incredible woman, and any soul across Tevinter, Nevarra, or bloody Thedas would be lucky to share a room, or a drink, with you. I certainly am.”

He saw her eyes widen, but he couldn’t stop himself. The floodgates had opened, and it was impossible to bring them crashing down again.

“They’d be even luckier to have you as a partner…a lover, as you said before.”

A stern finger lofted to prod her collarbone lightly, a gesture that would have potentially felt patronizing if they weren’t too adults that seemed to be drifting closer by the second.

The next words caught in his throat.

“A-As I…should …”

The molten intrigue in her eyes vanished in that moment. With the poise he often saw her display on the battlefield, her eyes fell shut as she flowed forward.

He braced for a slap, but felt her lips press against his instead.

Maker, he thought in a blitz of passion, how long had it been since anyone had kissed him? Decades, probably. The thought was met with fleeting entertainment, but quickly passed as he realized he wasn’t going to overthink himself out of appreciating the moment.

He leaned in, hands finding purchase on her hips for balance.

Her lips, as he’d thought, were so soft. They became even more pliable when he reciprocated, angling his head in a way so that slotted his nose beside hers and pressed hard into her cheek. The better angle allowed him to nudge all the closer. Her bottom lip was nestled between his at first, but with another sway of their bodies, she tilted away, and he took the opportunity to take that lip between his teeth just slightly.

He worried for a moment it was too forward, but concerns melted when she moaned (gods, a glorious sound!) and inched her arms upward. First, she gripped his shoulders. Then, her arms wrapped around his neck, nudging their pounding hearts into further alignment.

Just the scrape of his teeth made her gasp again, and her strong arms hauled him closer. With her bosom pressed to his chest and their thighs flush, it was euphoria. The man was too enamored to realized that he’d walked her backward across the room, pressing her to the stone wall gently. Unable to help himself, he smiled against the kiss, and she chased that smile with her own.

When they parted for air, panting and breathless, he stared into her eyes. They looked even darker than they had before. All the more tempting to become lost in them, he noted.

“I…I have not been kissed in a very, very long time …” he admitted breathlessly.

Belisma’s lips, now a slightly more muted shade after he’d kissed her lipstick off, curved into a smile.

“I’ve never been kissed like that,” she confessed with a whisper. “Ever.”

Shared mirth leapt between them, and he dared to rest his forehead against hers.

“P-Perhaps I should get tipsy more often if it leads to pleasant moments like this.”

A laughter, warm like summer thunder, rumbled in his chest. He eyes crinkled as he cupped her cheek, noting how she leaned int his touch.

“Well,” he husked, his voice shifting to a pleasant burr as he urged her close, “All the more reason from you to not drink alone again, dear.”

This time, he leaned in to capture her lips against his.

And she, their fearless Rook, leaned into him with abandon.

I'm now going to go back to begging BioWare for crumbs, haha.

[rom-e-o]

I used the Rook planning template by @riessene on Tumblr to plan out and mostly finalize Belisma’s design and details!

Her gown is inspired by Cordelia’s night dress/gown (?) from the film, “The Bat.”

[rom-e-o]

Trying a new Rook design. I like the idea of short hair, but until we have the character creator, I don’t want to commit too much, haha.

Her name will likely be Belisma, I think.