#that lucanis is worried about Neve too and in his head about treviso

[octosan]

for those interested this one is actually the conversation that really slapped me upside the head this time around.

I don't think I included enough of the conversation to demonstrate what I have a problem with, in hindsight, but basically--

you either needed Harding to comment on how bad Minrathous fared with the dragon, and how that will impact Neve staying away for a while, or you needed Lucanis to remind us of Neve and Minrathous once you got done complaining about how the Treviso dragon was too much for you. Having just Harding and then letting Rook and Lucanis commiserate is one thing. Having Rook and Lucanis commiserate and then Lucanis point out Minrathous is another.

But having both makes it look like, from a Watsonian reading, Lucanis was not listening at all until Treviso got mentioned, which... doesn't gel with him also clearly still thinking about Minrathous per the dialogue.

From a Doylist perspective, which is the only perspective I can take with this game 90% of the time these days, it feels like either the writers:

1. did not proofread this conversation to know that the same info comes up twice as if it's new information to Rook.

2. Were really concerned the players would not understand why Neve is not immediately available

3. were really really worried the characters would look like selfish bastards if they don't constantly signal that they are worrying about everyone else's problems in addition to their own (which is an exhausting mentality even outside of a wartime scenario tbh)

4. Were told that this conversation isn't long enough and couldn't be bothered, so just shoved some stuff in there to pad the line count. Which I'm wondering if that accounts for a lot of the game's repetition tbh.

This also isn't including how bad this and its surrounding scenes hammer in "we need a dragon hunter and a fade expert" as if they're scared we'll question the legitimacy of inviting more people onto the team (which for some players happened anyway, because people questioned that premise they repeatedly told us with the information the game showed us.)

[biserker-kadan]

It's embarrassing is what it is. He's supposed to be observant, it was trained into him since he was a child and he didn't even notice. Neve didn't either but that's not as reassuring as it would have been before, not now that they're...not now.

He finds out when they're in Treviso, Neve is in the corner speaking with Heir, discussing something or other - not that he's paying attention, too busy trying to ignore Teia's knowing eyes. It's still feels new and surprising - stolen glances, knowing smiles, hands gently brushing. It's more than he deserves and will never be enough.

Rook is laughing, the sound enough to draw his attention from Spite who is curiously also drawn to where she's standing - beside Viago, leaning against the table and bathed in Treviso's light. She looks radiant, it's enough to steal his breath.

"I can't believe I almost forgot about that!" Rook exclaims, smile wide and eyes closed in mirth. Viago is nodding along, a much smaller smile gracing his features. Even from a distance he can see the resemblance.

Even from a distance he can see how the knowledge, now out in the open, has lifted a weight off both their shoulders.

The mood shift is almost impossible to see but Lucanis doesn't miss it. Viago stands straighter, prompting Ev'lyn to do the same.

What is. He doing? Spite is glaring at Viago or perhaps simply looking with disdain, glaring seems harsh when Viago hasn't necessarily done anything. Not that Spite seems to agree, not after he they learnt more about Rook's training under the Fifth Talon. Smells like. Worry. Regret.

"Spite. Leave it be." Lucanis whispers, eyes darting back and forth between them. The rest of mingling crowd has dispersed, Crows heading out for contracts and whatnot. Teia grins, sliding up next to him, "I have been waiting all night for this, honestly, I don't know why it took him so long." She complains fondly.

Lucanis watches as Viago steps closer, shields her almost with an awkward movement before reaching into his coat and placing a small box in Rook's waiting hands.

"Viago?"

"Happy Birthday...sister," Viago sounds suspiciously misty as he says it, stepping back to let her look inside the box. She gasps, mouth dropping as she looks inside.

It's a ring, small in size and gold with no embellishments. It hangs from a simple gold chain, scratched metal glinting as she holds it up to the light, "I...is this?"

"Yes, I wanted to...I didn't...yes." He stutters over his words, looking away and catching Lucanis' eye for a split second before looking directly at Teia, her smile fond and warm.

She nods and he looks back to Rook who isn't even trying to hide her tears and before he knows it, she has her arms around Viago, practically smothering herself in his armour.

"Viago, thank you."

"For context," Teia begins, "because you look beyond confused. The ring was her mother's, he stole it off the slaver when he found her."

Rook is crying. Smells like. Citrus and ink. Happy?

Yes, he thinks, happy. Happy because her brother gave her a ring from her Mother as a birthday gift. For her birthday. That he, that none of them, were aware of.

Mierda.

[propenseverbosity]

Not a Date (Rook/Lucanis)

I might have posted about this when I posted chapter 1 but I can't find it so new post because it's complete now!!! Plus the link embed is working this time!

Summary: Rook and Lucanis take a trip to Treviso to meet with Illario. Words (and knives) are exchanged, and friends learn more about each other.

Word count: 5550

Warnings: None, lmk

(Shoutout to @ceremorph0sis for their help on this chapter <3 <3 <3)

Since moving into the Lighthouse, Rook often found themselves staring off into the endless abyss of the Fade. They liked to sit at the edge of the courtyard, letting their legs dangle over the side to watch the assorted debris float by.

From what they remembered of their dreams, they expected the Fade to look much different. Thick fog through a dark forest, with demons lurking in the darkness. Certainly not a lonely little island with its own personal sunshine and a permanently fresh spring breeze. Strangely peaceful, but it wasn’t difficult to see how easily Solas made it his home. It was quite literally built to be inviting.

As they wondered how it was possible for gravity to only affect some of the structures on their island, they missed the whining hinge of the dining room door.

“Rook? Do you have a minute?”

They turned at the sound of a smooth Antivan accent, leaning back on their palms as they found Lucanis approaching.

“Sure. What can I do for you?”

He stopped long before reaching the edge, refusing to peer over the side. “I received word from Illario.”

“Did you want to sit?” they asked, gesturing to the empty space at their side.

“No- thank you.” he replied, far too quickly.

Rook also wondered what made Lucanis choose a windowless pantry, knowing there were nicer rooms with spectacular views of the Fade. They suspected his assassin training was only part of the reason.

“Afraid of heights?” they teased.

“I’m not afraid.” he said, firmly. “And I wouldn’t call an endless drop into nothingness a ‘height’ exactly.”

“Suit yourself.” Rook chuckled, noticing the way he’d stepped back even further. “What did Illario have to say?”

“He wants to meet. Says he has information. Fancy a trip to Treviso?”

Rook loved visiting Treviso. The beautiful architecture and bustling markets reminded them of a home away from home. Unfortunately, the Antaam made it far less inviting in recent days.

Rook recalled that the team had no excursions scheduled for the day. After nearly a week of consistently fighting for their lives against cultists, demons, and darkspawn, their only plan was to rest and recover for the battles ahead.

“I’ve got time.” Rook replied. “How much backup do we need?”

“None,” Lucanis said, shaking his head. “unless they wish to join us. We won’t be straying far from the cafe.”

“Alright then. Sounds great.” Rook dusted themselves off as they stood.

Lucanis reflexively stepped forward. His hand twitched at his side, as if he was about to reach out and catch them if they fell. Only once they were safely away from the edge, did he relax, uneasily rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“When did you want to leave?” Rook asked, pretending to ignore the way he avoided their gaze. Was he... worried about them?

“Whenever you’re ready.”

…

Rook found the others in the library. Neve was busy pouring over Dock Town papers, while Harding and Bellara perused Solas’s collection of novels and encyclopedias. Even when they weren’t working, everyone had work to do.

“Anyone feel like going out today?” Rook asked the room.

“Can’t.” Neve replied, flipping to the next page of an issue about the mysteries of the Viper’s true identity. “I’m meeting Rana soon.”

“Fair enough. Bellara?”

“I think I should stay here today.” Bellara said, stacking another book onto the growing pile in her arms. “We’ve almost got the archive spirit working properly.”

“I’m out too.” Harding chimed in. “I promised I’d help.”

“Sorry Rook.” Bellara added, reluctantly.

“No worries. Just me and Lucanis then.” Rook shrugged, as they began to make their way towards the meditation room to get changed.

“You’re going out with Lucanis? A- alone?” Harding asked.

The Crow had only been in the lighthouse for a couple days. As the only non-mage on the team, Harding still hadn’t gotten used to living next to an abomination.

Though, Lucanis wasn’t exactly a typical abomination. Abominations didn’t typically cook gourmet breakfasts for their new teammates.

Rook stopped on the stairs. “Yeah. Why?”

“What if Spite gets out of control in a fight, and you need help?”

They’d all witnessed the demon’s power over Lucanis. His inhuman strength and speed, especially the spectral magenta-tinged wings that sprouted from his shoulder-blades whenever he used his powers.

“I’ll be fine. We’re not fighting anything, we’re just going to a cafe.” Rook assured them. “Very low-risk.”

“A cafe?” Bellara asked. Her pointed ears perked up in curiosity. “Like a date?”

“It’s not a date.” Rook said, firmly. “It’s a meeting. His cousin will be there too.”

“If it’s just a meeting, why does he need you there? Why doesn’t he just go by himself. Hm?” Bellara teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

“He doesn’t need me there, he invited me to go.” Rook countered, casually leaning against the railing. “The same way I just invited all of you.”

It couldn’t be a date. Even if Lucanis somehow meant for the invitation to be something more, surely they all had more important things to deal with at the moment.

“Alllright, if you’re sure.” Bellara grinned, looking far too pleased with herself.

Rook playfully rolled their eyes, continuing up the stairs.

“Have fun on your date.” Neve called out, without looking up from her paper.

“Not a date!” Rook reminded her, feeling their face flush with embarrassment as the others began to giggle.

It wasn't a date.

...

Even during an occupation, the Treviso markets remained flooded with vendors and patrons alike. String lanterns hung between pillars illuminated the vibrantly patterned fabrics of each stall, helping the vendors showcase their many goods. Rook tried their best not to gape too much at the beauty of a simple market, but they couldn’t deny their excitement over one vendor selling an assortment of tiny cakes.

Despite growing up in Treviso, Lucanis gazed just as fondly around the market as Rook did. As if he was suddenly seeing the city for the first time.

“Has it changed much? Since you got back.” Rook asked, falling back into step beside him.

“I’m... not sure.” He answered, honestly. “I barely had time to look around when we returned from the Ossuary.”

An opportunity, perhaps?

Rook stopped in their tracks, causing him to turn and raise a questioning eyebrow.

“Do we have time now?” they asked, eagerly awaiting his answer.

The assassin’s mouth twitched up into a rare smile. “We might.”

“Well, you know the city better than I do.” Rook shrugged, answering his grin. “Where do we start?”

They watched his suddenly focused gaze tick between the stalls, mentally mapping a route through the market. “Let’s look around a while. I need to pick up some things while we’re here.”

“As long as nothing’s trying to kill me, I’m in.” Rook chuckled.

“In Treviso?” Lucanis smirked. “There’s no guarantee, unfortunately.”

“That’s alright. Reminds me of home.”

Rook wasn’t sure how Lucanis managed to pull a grocery list out of thin air, but apparently he’d been making plans during his nights sleeping in the pantry. They thought they’d seen him in his element on the battlefield, but the way he maneuvered through the market in search of only the finest goods was certainly interesting to watch.

“They have a good selection of produce here.” he told them. “Neve only eats fried fish. You’d think a detective would have discovered scurvy by now.” he mused, rolling his eyes as he counted out a few gold pieces.

“In her defense, have you tried Halos’s fish? It’s amazing.” Rook said, feeling their mouth water at the mere thought of their favorite skewers. There was a rumor that some of the food in Minrathous was enchanted to taste better, but Rook had always suspected it was the bias of the locals.

“I’ve seen what you all eat.” Lucanis pressed a bag of fresh vegetables towards Rook. “It’s a miracle you didn’t all starve before you hired me.”

“Does the Demon of Vyrantium often do his own grocery shopping?” Rook teased.

Lucanis had the audacity to look bashful as he tucked away the rest of his gold. “I suppose not always.” He paused for a long moment, before elaborating. “I needed something to do.”

Rook could sympathize with the need to keep busy. It was the same reason they decided to spend their day off helping Lucanis buy groceries instead of resting at the Lighthouse.

“What else is on your list?”

With a resolute nod, Lucanis gestured further into the market. “This way.”

Rook almost wished they’d brought a bigger backpack to accommodate everything Lucanis needed to buy. He went through three different stalls before finding the one with the freshest fish.

“I thought you were trying to get Neve to stop eating so much fried fish.” Rook teased.

“It’s for Bellara. She mentioned a Dalish seafood recipe she wants to make.”

Their next stop was a gardener selling all manner of potted plants. Mostly herbs and spices, but Lucanis selected a pot of spearmint instead.

“To... brighten up the pantry?” Rook guessed.

“For Harding’s garden.” he corrected. “It’s supposed to calm bad dreams.”

Harding mentioned her struggles with nightmares since being infected by the lyrium dagger. With everything he was already dealing with, Rook was surprised Lucanis remembered.

“Does it help with elven gods invading them?” Rook joked, secretly wondering if it would work.

His shoulders dropped. “If there was a plant that could cure that, I would help you find it.”

“I didn’t mean-” Rook shook their head, worried they’d offended him somehow. “It was just a joke.”

“Still. I know what it’s like to have an unwanted voice in your head.”

Rook recalled the night they brought Lucanis to the lighthouse, and the way he’d brushed off the demon making him bleed. They’d done their own research on abominations, specifically how to cure them without killing the host, but nothing in Solas’s library had anything to do with forcing a demon into someone who wasn’t even a mage.

“He hasn’t hurt you again… has he?”

The long pause that followed did nothing to ease their worries. “I’m fine.”

Between the fish, the spearmint, and all the fruits and vegetables, Lucanis was keenly aware of the needs of everyone but himself.

“Well, if you’re ever not fine, just say the word.” Rook added. “We’re a team. No one gets left behind.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but instead muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

...

While Lucanis was busy bartering with a spice vendor, Rook decided to explore on their own.

One of the weapon-smiths had a separate table for novelty weapons of all shapes and sizes. Impractical models with decorative gems, or painted blades of various colors.

A small, handheld dagger with a hilt in the shape of a wyvern stood out from the rest.

“Can I help you with anything?” the man behind the table asked.

Rook tried not to make a habit of listening in to their companion’s conversations, but they noticed Lucanis mention wyverns a few times in the past couple days. How he’d never seen one before, but always wanted to. Lucanis had spent their entire trip shopping for everyone else. He deserved something nice too.

Rook nodded, and pointed to the wyvern dagger. “I’ll take this one, please.” They counted out a few coins, and placed them on the table as the man handed over the blade.

They found Lucanis in the same place they’d left him, mumbling something about the going rate of Antivan spices these days.

He paused when he noticed the knife. “What’s that for?”

Rook held it out to him with a small smile. “You got something nice for everyone else. This is for you.”

“A wyvern-tooth dagger?” he asked, eyes wide with surprise. They suddenly worried it would seem silly to gift an impractical dagger to a trained assassin, until his face lit up with delight. “I loved wyverns as a boy. I always wanted one of these, but Caterina would never let me have one.” Lucanis turned the dagger over in his hands, inspecting the wyvern as if it were a precious jewel. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Rook.”

“It probably won’t cut as well as yours do.” They mused, feeling a rush of relief that he didn’t hate it. “You don’t actually have to use it.”

Ignoring their last comment, Lucanis promptly unsheathed one of the daggers strapped to his chest, swiftly replacing it with the wyvern-tooth.

“Let’s head to the cafe.” he said, casually. “Illario should be here by now.”

-----------------------------------------

Full on Ao3

[lunammoon]

@veilguard-appreciation-week

Day Six

Prompt: MINRATHOUS/JUSTICE/YOU KNOW, I THINK YOU MIGHT BE TROUBLE

Summary: After getting Lucanis out of his head, Rook comes to realize some things that should have been obvious.

Word Count: 2240

Read on AO3

Lucanis and Rook had only remained in the Cobbled Swan just long enough to assure Viago and Teia that they were Fine Don’t Worry About It and then had quickly left to make their way back to the lighthouse.

Neither of them tended to linger in Minrathous very long.

Rook had never knowingly gone north enough to cross the Tevinter border, and they had not step foot into the capital until they had gone there with Varric and Harding to face the Dreadwolf.

Tevinter was not a place a smart elf went unless they had no other choice.

Their feelings about the country aside, they had nothing to do with why they’d gone to Treviso over Minrathous. Their decision had truly boiled down to the fact that Minrathous had Templars and a floating palace that shot lasers and had survived multiple Exalted Marches.

Antiva was a country with no standing army on account of the many many many alliances that had been woven into it over the years and its only true defense were the crows. The crows were competent, from what they had heard, Lucanis had a been a force to be reckoned with even before he and Spite had been forced together. The crows depended on stealth and subterfuge and you could not out subterfuge a blighted dragon. Treviso specifically, was lined with canals. They carried water throughout the city and could just as easily carry the blight, condemning the people who lived there to a slow and painful death.

They hadn’t considered a similar death toll occurring in Minrathous. A part of them had assumed that with their numbers and firepower, the Shadow Dragons would fair well.

They had picked what they thought was the best option, only to learn that there had never been a good one. There didn’t even seem to be a less bad option. There had only been options.

If feeling regret had been useful in any way then Solas would not have done most of what he did, and so Rook did not regret saving Treviso.

If they could do it all over again knowing what they knew now, they would have still saved Treviso, but done what they could to get as many Shadow Dragons they could out of the line of fire.

That’s not something they would ever say out loud, especially where Neve could hear them.

Neve was not angry at them, but it was still a fresh wound, and Rook knew enough not to poke it.

Dock Town itself was fine once Desperation had been banished. The taste of sour milk didn’t fill their mouth whenever they visited anymore. It was the one place in the city where they didn’t have to watch their ears, everyone was in the same boat here anyway.

The Cobbled Swan was fine too. It was incredibly shifty, but the atmosphere was that of one who had people who cared deeply about their home.

Rook could see why Neve cared about this place.

Regret was useless because you looked towards the past instead of dealing with the present and ended up with more regrets in the future..

Whatever Neve needed in order to help her people, Rook would do whatever it was in their power to survive. It’s why without Neve asking, they regularly made their way to the Wall of Light to light any and all orbs that had fallen.

They of all people understood the need to honor one’s dead.

It was the least that they could do.

They were certain that Lucanis felt similarly. It had been his home that they had gone to instead of hers. He had done what he could to aid the remaining Shadow Dragons, and he and Neve seemed to be getting closer.

Lucanis and Rook didn’t tend to talk much while in Minrathous.

And then a lack of something that should have been there caught Rook’s attention.

“Lucanis?” Rook said. They stared at the man. They flickered their eyes to the space to his left where they were fairly certain that Spite (?) was walking alongside his host.

They couldn’t see and hear the spirit the way Lucanis could, and they were fairly certain that Emmrich being able to hear him was related to his corpse whispering abilities. But, they could still taste the blackberries and mint and could tell where it was the strongest.

“Is everything alright Rook? I— Spite dragging you into my head didn’t—?”

“Oh no.” Rook said quickly. “I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t fine, it’s not like I could have left you there.”

“You could have,” Lucanis replied quietly.

“No I couldn’t. Don’t be stupid.”

Rook could taste cold, sharp, and sweet to their left. They turned their head.

“Tell him he’s being stupid.”

Lucanis frowned and glared at something to his right. “Yes. Yes. Spite. I get it! They’re—”

Lucanis cut himself off.

In the prison Lucanis had made for himself in his head, the spirit had said that to him, and likely Lucanis, people came in three types. Family, enemies, and contracts.

Rook had asked if they were a contract. The spirit had said no. They asked what they were, and the spirit had said: “An Idiot”.

“Lucanis, you called, Spite, Spite right?”

“Yes.”

“So he’s still Spite?” Rook was beginning to connect some dots.

“What else would he be?”

“No it’s just— with Spite there was always this faint over ripeness to him and cold. I told you after the Seer called him Determination. It’s gone now. And he’s still Spite.”

“He says he’s still Spite.”

Rook fidgeted with the chain holding their parent’s rings around their neck. “And he would know…”

There were enough dots to see a full picture now and by now they had made their way back to what remained of the Shadow Dragon hideout.

They wish they had only thought that this might’ve happened. If they could have offered shelter or hiding. Whatever had happened happened just after Neve rejoined them. There was time for them to have done something, they just didn’t know.

And would Neve have known that Rook would be willing to help if asked? After they had gone to—

One train of thought at a time.

Rook turned a fallen table upright and removed the notebook that Lucanis had given them from their coat pocket. They used it to take notes on Lucanis and Spite.

It was in a different notebook, specifically so that if Lucanis changed his mind about separation. They got the feeling that Lucanis wouldn’t want a their research getting out, and so they wrote it on something that wouldn’t be annoying to destroy. They opened the book to the first couple of pages and began to talk.

“When we first met, I didn’t think that Spite was corrupted.”

“But you mentioned the taste.”

“Spirits start to taste off when they begin corrupting, even if they’re not the whole way there. I, correctly at the time, thought that he just wasn’t there yet.”

“Why’d you change your mind?”

“I second-guessed myself. With everything about that place— it was strange. Even by magical standards. I mean it’s weird enough that you’re possessed since you said you’re not mage.”

“Rook. I’m not a mage. I told you. I have as much magic as a brick.”

“You can cast sleep with a brick if your aim is true.”

“Rook.”

“And besides, you’re the one who told me that you’ve been able to sense mages casting spell before a Spite Spirit was forced into your mindscape. If you’re not mage, you would have to be—”

Rook stopped. They took the book off the table and one of their pens and started to jot down.

“Be what?”

“You could be haunted.” they said half to themselves, “Which would mean that you and Spite are both on the same side of the veil which would explain a couple of things but—” Rook frowned.

Hauntings were fairly common, but they usually happened to corpses and objects not people, mostly because the process to bind a spirit to something, even a willing spirit was to something that could feel pain was— exactly the kind of unhinged thing Zara Renata would have done as part of an experiment. Especially when the something that could feel pain was a Crow known for killing magisters.

They scribbled something down.

“But what?”

“Thinking out loud. I’ll start looking into it when we get back to the Lighthouse.”

They hadn’t fully gotten through the research notes they had found in the chantry in part due to the fact that reading Zara’s experiment notes made them wish that they couldn’t read Tevene so they’d have an excuse not to look any further.

But they had promised Spite and Lucanis, they would look into all possible angles of separation until Lucanis specifically asked them not to or they had proven the endeavour utterly undoable. Emmrich said it was impossible, but Emmrich did not know blood magic like they knew blood magic. Their first two attempts had failed— but, if Lucanis was in fact haunted. That might provide another angle.

According to Varric’s, book, Anders had tried to separate himself from Justice and then given up as their wills became one. From what they knew about Kirkwall, particularly in the 9:30s, the fact that a spirit of JUSTICE had gone that long without corrupting in Kirkwall was a miracle and they weren’t convinced that it hadn’t. Then again, Justice spirits were finicky and could be confused for Vengeance depending on what side of their ire you got on.

Rook shook their head and flipped back to the first page. “The point, is that I have no idea what Zara did and frankly, from her notes, I don’t even know if SHE fully knows what she did. But it was strange enough that I thought that might explain the discrepancy? But, now I think my first guess was correct.”

Zara could have probably created a Demon of Eulogy if given the chance. It was good that she was dead. After Emmirch had finished commune with her corpse, Rook wasn’t fully sure what was done with it.

“In Nevarra, we don’t really use the word demon, mostly because it’s not very useful. But it does mean something. Take a spirit and deny it of its purpose. Eventually, it’ll become something contrary to what it used to be. That’s what a demon is. Spite never corrupted. He evolved. He never WAS a demon. He was in danger of becoming one, that’s what I was picking up. Spite’s a- do you remember that Compassion spirit we met here?”

Lucanis’s eyes glowed purple just long enough for Spite to go: "Bah!”

“Yes Spite. I know.” Rook found Spite’s attitude towards most spirits incredibly funny even though they knew they shouldn’t say or encourage that. Especially when for all his complaining, he still offered his help when he could, even if he couldn’t do so without a colorful insult. “The Compassion spirit evolved into Eulogy. The Determination Spirit evolved into Spite. I should have known when Rowan called him Determination. Spite Demons don’t come from Determination.”

“So there are Spite demons.”

“Sure.” Rook replied. “They can come from Mercy, Justice, Compassion. In 9:47 I came across one that used to be a Wisdom spirit. They had been regularly summoned by some Pentaghast or whomever to give advice. Except they never listened to the advice and instead ignored it. Wisdom got so angry about it that they started giving bad advice on purpose just to see what would happen. One thing led to another, and then that’s when I got sent in.”

“Is there a difference between a Spirit of Spite and a Demon of Spite.”

Rook shrugged. “Spite’s spite. I mean, they taste different to me but they’re functionally the same thing.”

“Then why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” Rook replied, “But, it’s good to know that Spite’s not in danger of corrupting into-” Rook thought for a moment, “Despair feels like a cheap guess. A lot of Spirits turn into despair, and Spite never got far enough down for it to be an issue. It’s more of there having been a problem we didn’t know was a problem and by the time we found it out it was solved!”

Rook winced. “I am so so sorry by the way Spite. You DID try to tell me.”

Between talking about still being trapped, his insistence that they were still in the prison, the door opening codex he’d scribbled on the back of one of Lucanis’s logbooks AND the fact that they had experience with Spirits, they probably should have noticed.

Lucanis’s eyes flickered purple again.

”Rook. Didn’t know the door was there! Didn’t understand. Made them understand. Didn’t make them open doors. They open them on their own.”

Spite had piloted the body closer to Rook, the hands gripping their shoulders, demanding they understand and then Lucanis was in control again and he let go.

“My apologies,” he said.

“It’s fine.” Rook said, and they meant it.

“I think we’ve lingered here too long,” Lucanis remarked. “We need to get back to the lighthouse. It’s my turn to make dinner. And if I wait too long, Harding might volunteer.”

Rook shuddered. They shut their notebook and pivoted on their heel directly to the eluvian.

“Then we need to go right now.”

[heylavellan]

Hi!! Happy Friday <3 The protective prompts are screaming NEVE at me today so for Neve & Bellara (& Nifty? 👀) "i know you can handle it yourself, but it doesn’t mean you should have to do this on your own." maybe?

they are THE women to me. they cannot take care of themselves but they can take care of each other.

@dadrunkwriting | @miladydewintcr

veilguard spoilers ahead

friends of dock town

rating: t

words: 766

additional notes: polyamory. nifty uses she/her.

-----

Neve stares at her notebook, trying to decipher what she wrote not a few hours ago. About half of it consists of names which are no longer legible and the other half of locations they were last known to be and distinguishing features of them. Templars are busy clearing out the wealthier districts of Minrathous, so coordinating the search and rescue operations falls largely under her purview.

"Hi Neve, am I interrupting? I probably am," Bellara calls into Neve's room, lurking by the door. Neve gestures her in. At least she was a welcome distraction. Bellara perches herself on the desk, pushing away the pile of notes to make herself comfortable.

Neve sighs and hangs her head. Fine. A little distraction is probably good for her. Maybe it'll even clean her mind a bit. "A little busy, but I always have time for you," Neve smiles, though it doesn't really meet her eyes.

Bellara frowns a bit, but it quickly dissipates. Probably not what she wants to hear, but it is the truth. The elf kicks her feet, glancing around the room. "I'm glad you do. Have time for me. I know the Shadows are really busy," she rambles. "So I want to get my time with you while I can. Hopefully not be too much of a bother. I just have two really cool girlfriends and both of them are really busy."

That brings a genuine smile to Neve's face. Something about Bellara's speech mannerisms never fails to endear her to Neve. She closes the space between them and kisses Bell, quick and sweet. The elf practically melts, an enormous grin of her own plastered across her face. Better.

"No matter how much trouble my girls bring me, there's always time," she reassures Bellara. She reaches into the drawer of her desk and pulls out her pipe. It's been a while since she's smoked, but she desperately needs it.

As Neve walks outside, Bellara eagerly follows her, grabbing her arm. "Stressed about everything? I know it's a lot. Elgar'nan attacked Minrathous, there's a lot of Blight, and the Venatori are running amok. But that's the thing. It's a lot. You and Rana can't do it alone," she comments.

Neve sighs. Once they're outside her room, she starts smoking. "We can do it alone," she insists, staring into the distance.

"Okay. You can. But you shouldn't. You don't have to. Lucanis is busy with Treviso. Taash and Harding followed him there. But Nifty and I can help," Bellara remarks, posting Neve in the chest.

That is true. Doesn't mean that either of them have the time. Or they have other things they should be doing. "Come on amata. The Veil Jumpers surely have bigger problems than Minrathous," Neve says cautiously, watching Bellara's response out of the corner of her eye. She rocked on her toes and bit her lip. Just what was she hiding.

"The thing is, I already asked some people if they wanted to help. They might be in the library right now," she admitted guiltily. "And they're good at cleaning up after explosions. And magic. Magical explosions even."

"Bell-"

"I know I should have asked. But you've been running yourself ragged. And I'm worried. Nifty said to ask, but I can't stand by."

"Bellara-"

"But um. They should be able to help. Maybe we can help the Shadows get some folks out of Tevinter. Take them in if they're slaves. Or liberati."

Right. Neve kisses her, getting her tongue between those beautiful lips as fast as she can. Partially because Bellara would keep talking, and partially because she is feeling incredibly grateful. And happy. Loved is probably in that list too. Kissing Bell is easier than trying to explain all that.

Bellara clings on to Neve, letting their tongues move together in a dance that feels right. Their teeth bump a few times, causing them to giggle. Just as Neve is about to suggest they take things back into her room, they hear a wolf whistle.

They immediately pull back from each other, swiping at their lips to remove any saliva. Nifty, though, is laughing at them. "Hey there darlings," she croons, kissing both of their cheeks. "I would say take it inside but I have it on good authority that there is some yummy food for us at the Shadows hideout and people to find."

Bellara tucks a longer piece of hair behind Nifty's ear. Trouble, the both of them. But the good kind. She tells them so as they lead her to the eluvian. Maybe a little help wasn't so bad.

[blackjackkent]

After our conversation with Solas, we get a follow-up chat with our buddies in front of the fire in the dining room.

"Solas thinks we need a dragon hunter and a Fade expert," Neve says, her tone somewhat doubtful.

Davrin juts out his jaw thoughtfully. "I wouldn't trust the Dread Wolf," he says slowly. "But he's not wrong about us needing a dragon hunter." He stares at the flames with a deep frown. "I've been a Warden for a while," he goes on. "Seen some pretty awful things. But what the dragon did to Treviso? I'll never get that out of my head. Lucanis stayed, said he'd be back soon, but..." He trails off, shakes his head. "At least you took care of yours."

Helena nods grimly. The Lighthouse has been even quieter than usual since they returned from Treviso, all of them trying to process the horrific damage that they witnessed - that they were unable to stop. Helena, thankfully, has recovered her usual sang-froid - but the whole thing was terrifying, much as she hates to admit it.

And it hangs at the back of all their minds, inescapable, that it could happen again. That it will happen again, if they can't figure out how to stop it this time.

"We hurt it, but didn't kill it," she says. "The dragon flew off before we could put it down."

"A dragon hunter would've helped in Minrathous, that's for sure," Neve adds.

Helena grimaces. Yes - yes it would. Treviso clearly got the worst of the whole business, but Minrathous took nearly as hard a hit. She knows Neve must be feeling it just as hard as she is - and each of them blaming themselves. That is their city... and they couldn't help it.

But they could kill themselves going in circles with what-ifs.

"That's hindsight talking," she says, a little too sharply. "We didn't know a blighted dragon was coming, or that we'd need someone who could take it down."

Neve nods slowly, though her eyes are still troubled. "We can't forget the second dragon in Treviso," she goes on after a short pause. "We should see how we can help, but..." She sighs. "We're without Lucanis until he's done helping the Crows. Who knows how long."

Helena nods, frowning. All of them, she knows, are feeling terrible for Lucanis, who has had his home devastated in a manner out of their worst nightmares. No one seems to know what to say, and the silence stretches a moment.

Varric - up on his feet at last, and lurking at the edge of the group - takes a step forward into the firelight. "Hey," he says gently. "Let's not get stuck in our regrets, all right?"

Helena nods, letting out a long, heavy breath. He's right, of course. Just like with the Dragons - this shit doesn't feel good, but they have to keep moving forward, or it will get a whole lot worse.

"Just so we're clear," Davrin puts in. "You're taking advice from this elven god, Solas. The Solas who tried to tear down the Veil. You really trust him?"

(A/N: OK, I have got to be right about Varric. Right? I've got to be. Davrin practically talked over him.)

Helena's lips twitch ruefully. I think we need him, much as every conversation with him makes me want to punch his lights out. "Trust is such a strong word, you know..."

"So you don't trust him." Davrin quirks an eyebrow at her.

"Ehhh," Helena says, waggling one hand.

Davrin chuckles. "All right then."

"So - a Fade expert and a dragon hunter," Harding says, clearly trying to wrest the conversation back on topic. "I'll ask around about dragon hunters and see what turns up. Come talk to me in a bit."

Bellara perks up eagerly. "And I've been corresponding with someone about the Lighthouse's reverberative oscillations and the resulting dimensional peculiarities--" She cuts herself off and looks down sheepishly. "Oh. Sorry. Not relevant. I'll get a message through to a Fade expert immediately."

Varric chuckles softly. "See, Rook?" he says teasingly. "Nothing to worry about."

Who says I was worried? Helena thinks automatically. "All right. We all know what to do. Let's get going."

[xxyanderegurlxx]

What first attracted your Rook to their LI? What attracted their LI to your Rook?

Ashryn:She remembers the first time she heard about him. Growing up, stories about the Dellamorte family were everywhere, mostly tales of Illario’s escapades at brothels. Viago had made it very clear that she was to stay away from them—particularly Illario—though she never had an issue with that. Something about him always felt off whenever she caught glimpses of him while traveling through Treviso.

Her real obsession, however, lay elsewhere. Ashryn harbored a deep hatred for the Venatori, collecting newspaper clippings about their deaths in the hopes of finding a lead on Manius. She wasn’t particularly religious, but she may have sent a few prayers to the Maker, hoping a contract for that bastard would land in her hands one day.

So when she first heard whispers of the so-called “Demon of Vyatrium,” she couldn’t help but be intrigued. Maybe even a little infatuated—not in a romantic way at first, but out of admiration for his skill and the chaos he caused, especially for Viago, which was an added bonus. Teia, of course, found out about her innocent little crush and teased her mercilessly for it, especially since Lucanis was ten years her senior.

But Ashryn never had much interaction with the other Houses, always busy with contracts. Then the Antaam situation happened. Her whole world flipped upside down. She felt lost, hated that she had disappointed Viago—but she couldn’t turn a blind eye to those slaves. Drowning her sorrows in a bar outside Treviso, she jumped at the opportunity when Varric asked for help stopping a supposed elven god. Maybe this was her second chance, a way to become someone more than the Fifth Talon’s protégé.

Wanting to shed the weight of her old name, she chose a new one—Rook. The nickname someone long ago had once given her. And with that, Ashryn, now Rook, left everything behind—including whatever remnants of her old crush on Lucanis Dellamorte.

Or so she thought.

That was until Neve suggested adding another assassin to the team. Rook truly believed she was over it; too much time had passed, and she had more important things to worry about than romance.

But then he emerged from that frozen prison. He cut down the Venatori with ruthless efficiency, and the first thought that popped into her head was: Oh no, he’s hot.

Which, fine, he was. But there was more to it than just looks. It was the way he cared for the team but forgot to care for himself. (She may or may not have made it her mission to find everything related to wyverns just to give him.)

Everyone expected the infamous "Demon of Vyatrium" to be this cold, hardened assassin—but that wasn’t who Lucanis was at all. Yes, he was a master of his craft, but that was just his job. The more she got to know him, the more she realized how endearing he was. His love for coffee, his excitement over wyverns, the way his favorite thing to do was cook for the team.

And then, one afternoon, in the middle of a casual conversation, it hit her..

“Shit. I think I’m in love with him.”

Cue her storming into Neve’s room in a full-blown panic, face burning as she paced in circles, rambling about how insane this was until she finally admitted it out loud. She had feelings for Lucanis Dellamorte.

Lucanis:Love and romance had never been in the cards for him, especially not with the extra passenger in his body. It wasn’t something he thought about. He was grateful to Ashryn for helping break him out of the Ossuary—he’d heard about her from Viago, mostly in the form of complaints about his troublemaking protégé—but that was the extent of his knowledge of her.

Then he got to know her.

She was young, ten years younger than him, yet carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. And despite that, she still cracked jokes, still held her head high, even with an elven god inside her mind. He admired that resilience.

But he also started noticing other things.

Like how she wasn’t a morning person, shuffling into the kitchen in her pajamas, barefoot, only half-awake until she had her coffee. Or how she hated bugs—he learned that the hard way when a spider nearly fell on her in Rivain, and she almost jumped into his arms. Or how her heightened sense of smell made her unable to be around onions for too long, leaving her a blotchy, teary mess.

Then there were the little, quiet things. How she always made sure Spite was entertained, giving Lucanis a rare, peaceful night’s sleep. How she started flirting with him—awkwardly at first, but adorably determined.

At first, he thought she was just teasing. Until she kept doing it. So he tested her, pushing back slightly to see if she was serious or just having fun.

Truthfully, before all of this, Lucanis never had a real friend. Not one he could trust. Not until Ashryn. Not until the rest of the team.

And then, one day, she trailed her hand up his chest, nervous yet determined, her blue eyes filled with something that sent his thoughts scattering.

He really should’ve known from the moment he saw those damn eyes that he was screwed.

---

Is their relationship a secret? Who knows about it?

Neve was, of course, the first to find out—after all, she was the one who helped Ashryn figure out how to flirt with Lucanis. The two had spent countless hours brainstorming ways to make him fall for her “charms”with Neve going so far as to create a literal board labeled“Crow Love Operation”—much to Ashryn's endless embarrassment.

Ashryn was perfectly fine with keeping things private for as long as Lucanis needed. But keeping it a secret? That was a little harder. Especially when he started spending nights in her room, sneaking out before the others woke up.

Ashryn had always been a tactile person, affectionate with everyone on the team. But she had held back with Lucanis, unsure if he’d be comfortable with casual touches. She knew some Crows weren’t receptive to that kind of thing.

So when Lucanis started reaching for her—grabbing her hand, hugging her—it made her heart soar.

Of course, everyone found out completely by accident.

Ashryn had just returned from a rough mission, exhausted and running on no sleep, when she walked into breakfast to find that Lucanis had prepared all of her favorite foods. He even had her coffee ready, made exactly the way she liked it.

Overwhelmed with affection, she kissed him on the cheek right then and there.

In front of everyone.

With a love-drunk smile, she sighed, “Have I ever told you that you’re the best thing to ever happen to me?”

…Turns out, they hadn’t been very subtle. The team had known for weeks.

---

If your Rook took their LI on a romantic date, what would it be like?

Ashryn would take Lucanis to her favorite spot in Treviso, where they could overlook the city under a blanket of stars. She’d prepare all the food herself, bringing along books so they could simply exist in each other’s presence, basking in warmth and quiet companionship.

---

What does life look like for your Rook and LI after the game?

A year after Veilguard, Lucanis proposes.

During a romantic gondola ride under the stars in Treviso, the city lights reflecting off the water as he asks her to marry him.

Ashryn helps him settle into his role as First Talon, continuing to support her friends and the factions they built together. Before long, she’s pregnant with their first child—a girl named Adelasia Lace De Riva after their friend.

During their marriage they will have six healthy children who were able to follow their dreams and goals however they wanted.

And Lucanis, the once-infamous Demon of Vyatrium, is now just a man, surrounded by friends and family he never thought he’d have.

[emmster]

Rook question, because damn I need more dmonestic Rook.

When does the partner realize that they're in love with Rook? (Please tell me it’s related to getting drunk with the grey wardens and Davrin).

I'm not a writer but here is a drabble about what happened that night from Lucanis' POV

Lavendel for the first time in months was bustling with warm light and laughter. The Wardens and the Crows both celebrated in the afterglow of the dragon battle. Both factions getting along despite Lucanis and Davrin's animosity to each other when they first met.

Traviso got their revenge, Minrathos got their revenge. This was a win against the gods.

Hell Rook, very recklessly, maybe too recklessly for Lucanis' sanity, almost took out Ghilan'nain too.

He could've died, Spite sneers in his head. Worried. The demon was worried about Rook.

Ever since they met Rook, Spite had a curiosity about Rook that Lucanis didn't really understand fully. But that curiosity also festered in Lucanis too. It started when Rook 'rescued' him mid breakout of the Ossuary. Then Rook chose Treviso over Minrathos, helped his smallish port town over the capitol of Tevinter. Rook chose him.

Rook chose him over and over again.

But here Lucanis was outside Greyhold with Neve. The laughter and music from inside the ruin of the once sturdy Grey Warden stronghold drifted outside. Lucanis swore he could hear Rook's sweet laughter in the mix. The Grey Warden for once letting his guard down.

Lucanis had been bantering with Neve for a few weeks. Mostly to rebel against Spite. Spite liked Rook. Lucanis knew that. But Neve was safe, was familiar. Their banter reminded him of talking with Viago when they were both young.

"Chilly tonight," she says looking up at the stars, "stars seem brighter here than in Minrathos."

"Minrathos is a bright city. It could block the light out," Lucanis looks up with Neve but he's not as entranced by them. His head is back in Greyhold whenever he hears Rook's voice over the rest.

Neve looks over at Lucanis, her eyes raking him up and down with a fine toothed comb. She sighs, "what's wrong?"

"What?" Lucanis blinks and looks at her confused. She knows, Spite snickers manifesting next to her. His expression is smug.

Lucanis rolls his eyes and leans against the stone wall. The cold pierces through his covert leathers.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Neve snorts

"I- No! I was rolling them at Spite," he lets out a breath, "he's being smug."

"So there is something up?" Neve laughs as she gets into interrogation mode with the Crow. This time Lucanis rolls his eyes at Neve now.

"Yes? Maybe?" Lucanis motions a bit with his hands and shakes his head. He hears Davrin and Rook talking very loudly. That didn't help Lucanis' feelings.

"Maybe?" Neve teases leaning against the wall close to Lucanis, "want to talk about it?"

Lucanis blushes a bit looking away from Neve. Is he going to do this? Was it even fare to Neve? Neve and him got along and they were close. She was a good friend to him. They spent many restless nights talking over coffee

He was confused, conflicted.

But still they gravitated towards each other.

It would be easier if it was Rook asking these questions, Spite says as he perches himself on a crate, wouldn't it? If Rook looked at you like Neve does.

That snapped something in Lucanis. Neve didn't deserve this. He was leading her on. It wasn't fare.

"Neve I-" Lucanis pulls back and steps away from the wall, "this isn't fare on you"

Or anyone, a voice in Lucanis' head says that was not Spite.

Neve smiles knowingly, "I didn't expect anything from this anyways, Lucanis. There's no harm in flirting between friends."

Lucanis is taken aback by this, "you didn't?!"

"A girl can't flirt a bit?" Neve laughs and she sighs, "besides you probably want to be inside with a certain Warden don't you"

On queue Rook's laughter can be heard over the rest. Lucanis shifted a bit and Spite laughs.

Oh she's good

Lucanis glares in the direction of the demon.

"Spite?" Neve asks

"Yes!" Lucanis rubs his forehead a bit. Somehow he is being ganged up by Neve and Spite, "I feel like I'm being ganged up on"

Neve laughs, "I have eyes Lucanis, you're not hiding it well."

Lucanis groans, "fine, I may want Rook's company."

"He's good for you."

"Maybe too good."

Neve laughs at this, "you're impossible"

Lucanis rolls his eyes at her. He hears Rook laugh from in the stronghold again.

"Maybe you should go grab him before he ends up with someone else," she teases.

"Maker's breath, he wouldn't," he blushes all flustered.

Let's just go find him at least, Spite says wanting to grab Lucanis' arm and drag him into the Greyhold himself, but that would take too much out of the spirit.

Neve just gives him that trademark smirk of hers and he rolls his eyes, "fine. I'll go find him."

Lucanis walks into Greyhold, passing by a couple of fledglings that Viago brought. Bright eyed and a bit too drunk for representing the Crows in front of the Wardens. A weird alliance as it is. Lucanis was in his teens during the Fifth Blight, he heard Caterina ranting to him about a certain Crow of House Arainai fumbled a contract in Fereldan and there were rumours he fell for the mark.

A Fereldan Warden.

"Spite don't even start," Lucanis glaring at the demon before Spite could open his mouth and say something very smartass at him about this.

Lucanis knew how bad it was. He knew Caterina would be disappointed. The only family besides Illario he knew.

But Rook… Rook treated him so well. He was supportive and encouraging. Even with Spite, he gave him the benefit of the doubt. Rook helped him with Zara and Lucanis felt like he let him down over and over again.

He missed Ghilan'nain at Weisshaupt. They lost Weisshaupt because of him.

And yet Rook forgave him again and again.

How could Rook ever love him?

He hears Rook's laugh, I see him, Spite says zeroing in on the Warden. His beautiful warden.

Rook was flushed across his freckled face, oh he was sloshed. His smile made it up to his bright but warm blue eyes laughing at something another one of the wardens had said. Davrin was by him too, less drunk but enjoying himself.

Then Rook sees him. His eyes lighten up and a big drunken smile graces across the man's face, "Lucanis! Come join us ya bloody crow!"

Rook then walks over to Lucanis practically dragging him over to the bar. Lucanis isn't sure what they're talking about because Rook is practically hanging off of him.

He's a clingy drunk, Spite says, his manifested self leaning on the bar beside Rook but only visible to Lucanis, it's cute.

A blush forms on Lucanis' face and he lets himself lean into Rook's touch. Because it was cute.

Lucanis allows this affection, because Rook won't remember tomorrow. His secret would be safe for at least a little while. Even if Davrin teases him behind Rook's back.

[browniejeane]

Flash-Fic Friday

Here's another piece I've been picking away at - I know that they touched on Rook's regrets and how they landed her in the prison, but...what if they started to eat away at her before then?

Just a little exploration into how Odari internalizes her guilt at all her perceived failings.

Everything was falling apart. Ever since they interrupted Solas’ ritual. Rook shook her head, blood red curls falling over her face. She had done what she always did and stuck her nose where it didn’t belong, and now the world was falling apart because of it. Varric injured; two rogue elven gods on the loose; wardens wiped out; Minrathous destroyed and under Venatori control… The people she had recruited weren’t in much better shape. Harding, while finally healed from her own injuries, was struggling with being the only dwarf in existence with magic that may or may not have been because Rook’s gods stripped the dwarven gods of their magic just for physical bodies; Neve, who blamed Rook for the fall of Minrathous - and why shouldn't she? Rook had chosen Treviso over Minrathous when there were dragons attacking. Everything that had happened after was very much on Rook's shoulders. Then there was Lucanis, who was battling a literal personal demon and the loss of his grandmother; Bellara, who was torn between searching for and saving her brother, and the work here at the Lighthouse; Emmerich with his fight against Johanna - a half lich; Davrin and Assan, and their rage at Lucanis for failing to kill Ghilan’nain and the destruction of the Wardens, as well as the capture of the griffins by the Gloom Howler; Taash and their internal struggle on who to be…. They were a mess. And she didn’t help much either. The gods had made it almost impossible. When it came to the dragon attacks, should she have gone to Minrathous instead of Treviso? The Venatori in charge was a nightmare, but Treviso wouldn’t have stood a chance. But the only family she had ever known had been wiped off the map because of it. Then the Grey Wardens….the loss of them was almost too much. So, she decided that she was done losing people and allies. And the best way to do that was to be better. A better leader. One who didn’t make mistakes that killed hundreds of people. Or wipe out nearly an entire order of darkspawn warriors. Rook dove into finding the gods that had escaped. Ghilan’nain was mortal. If they could just find her…

Every surface in the meditation room was covered in papers and maps and books. Anything that could tell her more about the gods, she devoured. She lived on coffee — drinking whatever she could get her hands on. Neve’s sludge, Lucanis’ artisanal blends; Harding’s strange combination. Nothing was off limits. She buried herself in work, ignoring most everything else. She’d sit down at the table to eat with a sheaf of papers or a book and wound up getting distracted a few bites in. Or, on the rare occasion that she didn’t have some sort of research with her, she would be called away by one of her companions, or a summons from one of their allies. Dark circles became a permanent fixture under her eyes, nearly as impressive as the ones Lucanis sported. Due to her erratic eating schedule and immense amount of stress, weight dropped off her at an astounding rate. She didn’t seem to notice it, and nobody said anything, so it never really registered as to why she was suddenly cold all the time, but it was able to be shuffled off to the side, stuck in the pile of things to worry about later. Rook was taking off through the Eluvian at all hours, taking whoever was awake along with her and around the Lighthouse. She caught the frown on Neve’s face every time she walked back in from the basement and just ducked her head to avoid the judgment there. Sometimes, Lucanis would be there with the detective, and both would side-eye her as she slunk up to her room to clean up quickly before heading back out again. But it was fine. She was fine. She had to be.

[blackwall-my-tiny-husband]

Harding gets a tail from Minrathous pt2

Or if you grow a tail don’t come to me (-neve)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64683868/chapters/166303840#workskin

Chapter 2:

As Zalan had feared it was looking like Neve tracking down the right reports to find the right spells the right mages had been working on would be taking several days at least. She was working tirelessly and Lucanis was supplying her with coffee and help but she was still working on it.

And so Lace Harding was getting used to having a tail.

It was easiest at the lighthouse, the team was no longer asking to touch the fur or trying to spook her to watch it poof out, and even Davrin had seemed to run out of jokes about it.

She knew to keep it curled close to her body around Assan who just could not help himself, the waving appendage too much like a toy to attack or bite at.

Manfred occasionally still wanted to touch or bat at it but he would bring strange bits and bobs to try and trade with Harding in exchange which if she denied he seemed to accept and move along with a sad hiss.

Occasionally Zalan would wake up in the middle of the night being smacked in the face by the tail. Or wake up in the morning to find it wrapped around his arm or leg depending on where Lace had ended up tossing and turning herself in her sleep. One of the times he was kissing her while the lyrium began crawling up his face he spotted it twisting into a happy little knot. If he hadn’t been breathless after pulling away and trying to get the spinning of his head to stop he would have teased her about it.

But with the days of the tail continuing to drag on he’d been trying to keep the teasing, even the very heartfelt kind, to a minimum. He could see she did still worry about it although she tried to keep the worry to herself.

Around the lighthouse it was easy enough to forget it was a problem as strange as it was. But as they continued on missions and helpful favors to the various factions it always became a glaring problem out in the world.

The veil jumpers were the easiest for her to be around. They were used to the strangest of things happening around the forest and spotting some unfortunate dwarf with a cat tail was on the tamer side for them. It didn’t even garner many whispered theories or rumors just veil jumpers seeing it and shrugging. Or wishing the team well in finding answers. They never even seemed like they expected a solution but Bellara often said weird things happened in Arlathan and the jumpers just learned to deal and knew not everything could be undone.

Going to Treviso or Minrathos, places full of people and gawkers was always harder. People would stare and whispers would happen between heads tilted close together and behind people’s hands. The Crows seemed to studiously ignore it after the first time. Viago had pointedly asked Zalan what he had done to the veilguard’s poor scout. Zalan hadn’t been sure if he should take offense or not but wasn’t above letting others blame him and had only scowled at his mentor telling him to leave it. And people in Dock Town were still hurting and it was hard to tell if they were whispering about Harding or about the destruction and Venatori or about something as mundane as fruit prices rising. Everyone was on edge there.

The wardens were busy and the blight was weird enough for them, they didn’t want or couldn’t handle much more and so seemed to ignore it. Antoine had asked about it the first time and seemed to be sympathetic, talking briefly and cryptically about the time he was bitten by a werewolf. Davrin and Zalan had tried pressing him for more but he wouldn’t say anything else on the matter. After that they didn’t bring us the tail though Harding would complain about the appendage when so much mud was around.

Rivain was nice enough, the lords and spirits would occasionally ask about the tail but they just wanted stories told around a table full of ale and laughter. Treating it like a story one of their pirates would tell about being cursed because they couldn’t undo a trap in time. But otherwise didn’t seem to even notice it.

The Necropolis was a different story. The undead and friendly spirits didn’t care or probably notice that anything was even different about Harding, but plenty of the mourn watchers looked at Lace like some sort of science experiment. They liked to approach her and try to ask questions like she might be a riddle to solve. What had she tried to remove it with, had she tried dissolving it in melting potions? Was she thinking about donating it to any science communities after she was dead or after the tail was removed? Did she think a cat was merged with her or did she think her body made the extra bones for the tail? Emmrich had to chase away some of the stranger scholars who thought they could extract it with some sort of spirit blade.

The lighthouse necromancer could see the tick in Zalan’s jaw when they came poking around and Emmrich tried to explain they only wanted to help. But with Lace being uncomfortable with the questions and the attention and Emmrich not wanting their leader punching out eccentric scientists in the heart of Nevarra the trio decided that Lace should stay away from the necropolis unless Myrna and Vorgoth asked for her specifically.

Which was overall not a bad idea but it had Lace grumbling and pouting about it for a full day after. She hated getting left behind.

In the privacy of her own room she complained to Zalan that he was going to end up getting hurt because who was going to watch his blind side without her there. He could see the hurt in Lace’s eyes when she said it. She didn’t really like complaining but she desperately wanted to keep her friends safe, keep him safe. And he realized he had been traveling with her and Varric for over a year so if someone did know all his weak spots it would be her. Harding had always had his back in battle and he trusted her. Probably not the smartest move, to know you have a weak side but not try to guard it, but he had a scout to protect him so he hadn’t worried about it.

He could claim his friends could cover him in her place, it was just in the Necropolis after all. But part of him wondered when exactly that had happened. When had he fallen so hard and trusted so completely that her having his back, being there, was just a given. To know the arrow flying over his shoulder was aimed at his enemies and not his neck? Viago would kick his kneecap in if he knew the extent of trust he had in Lace Harding.

But he had watched her water her fade plants with her watering can in silence while she spoke. Let her get out all her worries and concerns while she tended the fade turned real plants. And watched her set the can down and plop onto the blankets with a huff when she was through.

He smiled, large and lopsided and had stopped messing with the vine of a giant elfroot plant he’d been poking at to scoot closer to where Lace had settled herself next to him.

Reaching for her he tapped lightly at the back of her hand and warmth bloomed in his chest as she flipped her hand over and laced their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world while still talking.

“It’s only at the Necropolis and only until we have this tail thing sorted.” It was nothing he hadn’t said before and he would keep saying it if it would make her feel any better but she still let out a sigh at his words.

“I know but-“ He cut her off with a laugh and tugged her closer knocking their foreheads together with a little bit of force. She worried too much.

“I am an Antivan Crow Lace, an assassin. I’ve worked jobs alone and with company for as many years as you worked for the inquisition. I think I can walk around the Necropolis alone without you worrying about my imminent death. And I won’t even be alone.” He punctuated each sentence with a quick featherlight kiss. To her forehead, a cheek, an eyelid, her nose. She blushed and he could see the faint blue glow start out of the corner of his eye on her hand before she pushed him away with a laugh, done with his antics. She hadn’t seemed to notice the lyrium activate with her eyes caught on his and he just let himself be pushed away and leaned back on his hands.

Still blushing she leaned closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder and placing her hand next to his on the ground, their fingers crossing. Twisting only slightly Zalan tilted her head up with his finger crooked under her chin. He looked in her eyes, always giving her a moment to pull away, before kissing her for real. She hummed into the kiss and he was sliding his fingers up into her hair, brushing all the loose bits out of her face when he paused. His fingers brushed against something soft, softer than hair and with all the strange magic happening he needed to check.

Her hands were fisted in his shirt and she made a noise as he pulled away but he needed to actually look at her hair.

What had felt like the fur of her tail had truly been fur and Harding was watching him warily, having flicked her eyes back open when he hadn’t returned to kissing her.

“I don’t like that look Zalan.” She was frowning now and he stared at the pair of cat ears on top of her head, her hair moving around the new additions as they flicked about.

“I think we need to go see Neve… or Emmrich.” He pulled back farther and her hands fell away from his chest to fly to her hair, grasping at the new cat features.

“No! No no no no no.” Her words came out in a rush and Zalan grabbed her hands to keep her from tugging on the ears trying to give a reassuring squeeze while she panicked.

///

The pair made their way to Neve’s room, Harding pulling and poking at the ears on the walk over. By the time they were knocking on the door Harding had them pressed to her head, hands covering them and pacing back and forth on the walkway to the little office room.

Neve called them in and had a fistful of papers as they entered, waving them around in a triumphant gesture.

“Good timing, I’ve found a decent lead and I was about to go check out one of the dock town markets. Theres a stall there I think might be of interest and the guy should still be there if we leave-“

The rest of whatever she had been about to say died in her throat as Harding released the ears and they sprung up sitting tall on her head before swiveling back in nervousness, mirroring her mood.

Walking over and poking at the ears herself Neve’s eyes tightened and a small frown tugged at her lips, all of which was making Zalan nervous.

“This changes things.” And then she ran back to her desk, grabbed a few other papers, and waltzed past Harding and Rook and was out the door forcing them to follow or be left behind.

The pair looked at each other, a confused conversation playing between their gaze before they both rushed after her, worry pushed aside for now in favor of a determined stride.

Neve marched the group up to Emmrich’s room and with all the confidence of someone who would know what they’d find inside pushed into his study.

Emmrich too had papers littering his desk, though the man himself was coming down the staircase with Manfred in tow both carrying a few books.

“Ah Neve I was just looking into some of the research you asked me to find. I think I’ve found a few mentions of the sort of spells you were looking for but many of them are in the older tomes and from smaller villages.” He paused once he spotted Harding standing with the detective and blinked a few times at the new cat features.

“I think the spell is accelerating.” Neve’s tone was urgent and both Zalan and Harding snapped their heads to look at her. The professor and detective had clearly been comparing notes and sharing research on Lace’s condition but they hadn’t expected to have not been kept in the loop.

Zalan had his hands on his hips, mouth pressed in a stern line trying not to be impatient while Lace fiddled with her gloves trying not to look as worried as Zalan felt and doing a poor job of it.

“Yes. It would appear to be that way.” He turned to Harding,

“The ears happened just now correct?” He placed his books on the table and took Manfred’s and adds them to the stack. The skeleton came over and hissed a sad little hiss while watching the cat ears twitch to the side and then pin back against her skull. Lace and Zalan nodded,

“Were you doing anything out of the ordinary when they appeared?” He was flipping a few books open and handing Neve some of his notes.

Zalan felt heat creep up his own neck when Lace looked up at him eyes wide and a blush dusting her face. He cleared his throat and gave a little shrug,

“Not so out of the ordinary no.”

Neve picked up papers comparing listed symptoms and side effects and Emmrich squinted at the pair but didn’t say anything only made a short disparaging hum.

“We think someone was trying to use a very old spell to curse someone into the form of a cat.” Neve seemed to be refusing to be interrupted in her line of thoughts and had been ignoring all the blushing.

“But it’s not magic uses anymore, and it’s difficult to get right. Even when mages shapeshift it’s hard to do and takes massive amounts of concentration and the deep understanding of that animal to work correctly.” Neve was pointing at various papers as she spoke the frustration clear in her voice.

“To do such a spell on someone else would require such knowledge of both animal and person and such an amount of power it was sure to go awry.” Emmrich added tsk tsking at the very idea.

“Many of the older instances of it were merely stories told to frighten children or rumors of deep wood witches being able to change a persons form. Probably all misinformed sightings of mages shapeshifting and getting their stories wrong or twisted over time.”

Harding laughed but it was a bitter sound,

“So you’re telling me I’m going to turn into a cat? Probably because some random mage got pissed off at someone?” She was angrily gesturing with her hands while she spoke, her cat tail lashing around behind her.

“And I think it’s accelerating.” Neve repeated, handing Emmrich a few pages she collected from his desk and her hand of leaflets. He was glancing over their contents as she continued,

“The spell work I found in the area and the reports I found from that mage college outside dock town line up. Well enough at least. But their time line was longer than this.

Zalan perked up at this bit of info,

“What timeline?” He refused to step away from Harding’s side so he had to lift a hand to block the slapping of the tail from hitting him.

“I found a few reports, buried under mundane listings and accidents, from one of the mage colleges. There were two incidents where a mage had a curse thrown at them and they slowly started shifting into a cat, however the spell work was shoddy at best and it backfired hitting the caster.” Neve shook her head, hands on her hips in clear disappointment.

“Both had rich magister families who swept the whole thing under the rug of course.”

Emmrich tutted at the story but nodded at the papers in his hands.

“But those reports were from direct spell casting and still took several days for it to begin working. Your calculations would seem to be correct and our dear Harding should have several more days before more signs appear. But I agree, these new developments must mean either something-“ he paused to stare pointedly at where Zalan and Harding stood.

“Was causing the magic to activate and thus spreading through her body quicker. Or because she ate the components it’s behaving differently than when being cast.”

Neve hummed her agreement,

“At least that’s as best as I can tell. For all we know the lyrium in Lace’s blood is also affecting it. Lyrium potions make our magic more potent and longer lasting it could very well be working similarly here.” She gave a little shrug and stared at the ears on Harding’s head more theories probably bouncing off each other as she did.

“Buuut does that mean you’ll be able to reverse it?” Harding asked after a few too many beats of silence. She had her hands on her hips and a hopeful look on her face.

Emmrich and Neve exchanged glances and the fade expert went back to his notes pulling out more papers and flipping book pages.

“We’ll need to go speak to the lead I got from the market, the stall owner might know components the magister’s son bought to work with. After we know that we can begin crafting a counter spell for you.”

Handing a few of the papers back to Neve the professor grabbed his overjacket and took a satchel from Manfred.

“Come along Manfred, I need to leave you in Lucanis’ care before we depart.”

Neve took this as her cue to leave and gather her own gear. Before ushering the remaining pair out of his study Emmrich pinned Zalan and Harding with a stare,

“Any undue emotional or physical excitement may cause symptoms to accelerate. So I suggest you both be on your best behavior while we’re gone.”

Zalan knew that Emmrich was concerned for their scout but being scolded like naughty teenagers still had both he and Harding blushing and flustered. Lace’s whole face had gone beet red and she seemed to be oscillating between gaping like a fish and trying to disappear. Manfred had already taken off down the stairs towards the lighthouse doors and Rook followed his lead, putting his hand on Lace’s back and steering them out of the room for Emmrich to be on his way.

Despite his own blush still creeping up his face Zalan was hopeful that this would be the lead they needed. He risked a glance down at the dwarf and she had both hands on her face, fingers spread over her warmed cheeks.

“I feel like I’ve just been scolded by my dad after getting caught kissing in the barn!” She hissed the words up at him, like she was afraid speaking too loudly might make him come back.

“It definitely felt like getting caught and scolded.” A pause, “But I can’t say Viago has ever caught me kissing in a barn.” He chuckled and nudged her arm with his elbow,

“But I’m always open to new experiences.” The tease coming far too easy along with the laugh.

Harding’s blushed traveled farther up her face over her ears and she scowled at him, nudging him in the ribs harder than she needed to. But he only grinned with an apology and an assurance he’d behave. An assurance neither of them truly believed.

//

Apparently ‘we’ meant only Neve and Emmrich and so Lace and Zalan had been left at the lighthouse while leads were chased. This had irked them, both being the type to like to keep busy and jump into action.

Which is what led them to look through some of their requests for help, Emmrich hadn’t said they had to stay at the lighthouse after all.

Which had led them to finding Davrin who was also going stir crazy with a bored griffin and the trio headed out to the wetlands to offer some support to the swamped wardens with clearing out more blight and gathering herbs for the wounded and blighted.

Which had led to their current predicament. Lace was running with a bundle of Brona’s bloom in her hand, Zalan hot on her heels, twisting around to fire poison tipped arrows back into the pack of darkspawn ghouls scrambling after them, trying to be careful not to dislodge his own bundle tucked into his belt.

Davrin had been in the lead mere minutes ago but at a split he directed them to split up leading half the horde after himself with taunts and Assan’s battle cries.

But even halved the pack was enough to have them sweating. The poison was working on the ones Zalan’s arrows hit but it was a slower poison and they both had herbs on them and they had to keep those safe which meant not just turning and fighting.

Making an annoyed noise Zalan slung his bow back around his body, arrows running low.

“We need a place to lose them.” He panted, wishing he hadn’t been the one on guard while Lace picked her bundles. She would have downed more ghouls from the pack than him, her archery skills far superior to his own.

Harding made an equally annoyed grunt before pointing at a slim passage between two large craggy hills,

“Head there, if we’re quick we can get through it and have a defendable choke point!” She managed between pants and the two veered in that direction.

Sprinting down the passage way Zalan tried not to rush Harding with his longer stride but the jutting out rocks kept roughly scraping against their armor slowing them down more than either of them would have liked.

Right at the end there was a sharp angled turn and then the other side and as they rounded the corner the rocks underfoot crumbled and the pair toppled forward, Harding trying uselessly to backpedal and Zalan tripping over their tangle of limbs.

There must have been one of the many cavern systems under their path because the ground gave way to air gave way to soggy tunnel floor.

Harding had fallen first, letting out an oof as her body hit the oozing mud. Zalan landed awkwardly over her trying not to crush her and only marginally succeeding as he landed partially on her leg probably bruising it up pretty bad. Crouching low over her as chunks of rubble tumbled after them he risked a glance over his shoulder to see roots and bits of rock blocking most of the way back up.

Their breathing was ragged but they both had eyes up at their new cave entrance and collectively managed to hold their breath as the ghouls bounded over it and continued on their chase.

Neither spoke or moved for several long moments, breathing steadily slowing to normal as the immediate danger passed.

Harding still had her herb bundle clutched to her chest and her other hand holding onto Zalan’s shirt as though to keep him close.

The Crow scanned her face looking for signs of injury. Lace was dirty and he suspected he was as well, but she looked mostly unhurt otherwise. A few scrapes and little scratches from the roots and rocks on the fall down but she wasn’t bleeding from anything he could see and he doubted she would be this silent about anything sprained or broken. And his own body, although sore from bruises sure to blossom over his body in the coming days, also seemed unhurt.

The knowledge neither of them were actively dying calmed Zalan’s nerves and a smile spread over his face as he shifted his body and leaned down on his elbow to lower himself closer to Harding’s face.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, as though too much sound might disturb the debris or bring the darkspawn back. She was close enough it felt like they were sharing air and pink had tinged her ear tips.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was equally quiet, eyes roving over him, checking on him as he had done with her. She was leaning up and their lips were brushing lightly, before he pulled slightly back,

“It seems,” A pause as she chased after him, letting their lips brush again, “I’ve fallen for you Lace Harding.” He watched her eyes, which had been slowly closing, locked on to his and sharpen for just a second before she groaned and shook her head, dropping it back in the mud,

“Oh my gods, you boob!” She pushed him off her, forcing him to sit up or be rolled out of the way as she sat up, face pink from blushing but she was laughing at him with a smile despite trying to look annoyed at him.

With the pair of them finally sitting up and looking around Zalan could see they were indeed in one of the many caves that ran through the Hossberg Wetlands. Though this specific cave didn’t look familiar to him. One way narrowed to nearly nothing, no chance any person fitting that way, while the other looked like a path they could follow it was darker and didn’t look well used. The way back up however was too far for either of them to jump and it was mostly blocked. And badly blocked at that, it looked as if even attempting to climb that way would dislodge everything and have it all collapse down on them.

Both of them were covered in mud, Zalan’s legs, cape, and hands were the brown gray that almost everything in the wetland was and Harding’s entire back was covered. Lace cringed as she stood up tried in vain to brush off some of the goop off her warden clothes. She had been smart in wearing the utility outfit though, as Zalan stood he could feel how weighted down he felt from his mud covered cape.

“How’s the leg I landed on?” He gestured to the leg she was favoring, she couldn’t hide from him the way she was leaning heavily to one side, despite attempting to disguise it by putting her hand on her hip.

“I’ll survive.” She was trying to assure him but Rook wasn’t having it. He unclipped his cape, letting it do into the mud. He’d have to get a new one and Viago might give him grief over it later but it was already muddy and too heavy to drag around with his scout on his back.

Crouching in front of her and swinging his own bow to his front Zalan gestured her on but she scoffed and didn’t move.

“Come on Lace, you don’t want to make it worse. And if I carry you in front of me you won’t be able to use a bow. Back there you have a better chance at shooting.” He was just so reasonable, tone even and coaxing. He knew he had to approach it carefully, if he didn’t use as much reason and logic as possible she would refuse.

He hadn’t carried her very many times in the past but every time it had been like pulling teeth. Even when she was injured she didn’t like having to rely on the help.

He waited patiently kneeling in the mud and then finally he heard a huff and she was climbing on, making sure their bow strings weren’t getting tangled.

Once standing and adjusted Harding sat high on his back so she had room to fight as he promised.

“If you drop me I might actually shoot you.” She muttered it but didn’t have any heat behind it and she only sighed and leaned on his head.

Zalan only smiled softly and hummed an affirmative,

“I wouldn’t drop you even if someone was burying a blade in my side.” He was being serious enough but he still heard the small chuckle from the dwarf on his back and could almost feel her rolling her eyes at him.

//

Zalan trudged through the cave, Harding occasionally piping up to suggest a pathway when the tunnel split or asking quietly if he needed a break but the crow kept the pace and continued on.

He didn’t want to be stuck down there any longer than they needed to, the other caves often had darkspawn crawling out of the walls and ground and so far they’d been lucky. And he wanted to keep it that way.

After far too long for Zalan’s muscles the pair could see the tunnel’s end light. Wanting to let out a sigh of relief but not wanting to give away how much effort carrying another person was for him Zalan just continued on. He was going to have to ask Davrin or Taash to help him work on his strength training after all this. He could run and jump from roof to roof for miles, carrying another person however was not a muscle group he had.

But before another ten steps could even be taken Lace sat up straight, grabbing Zalan’s bun and giving it a tug as she whipped off her bow and notched an arrow.

Grunting in pain he was about to complain when he spotted what had her riled up- a darkspawn was falling from the roof of the cave closer to the exit. As he watched it wriggle free he could spot several more begin forcing their way out of the muck and drop to the ground.

The first one had turned and screeched in their direction when the arrow found its mark through the darkspawn’s head dropping it to the ground.

Gritting his teeth he braced and let Harding get off another shot at the darkspawn before charging forward. Their best bet was to get out of the cave and not get trapped in the tunnel by the ghouls.

Another shot zipped through the air and met its mark through a chest of one of the closer ones but it only gurgled and continued lunging forward.

A curse from behind him and then another couple of arrows shot out in quick succession. If she didn’t clear them a path getting through the group was going to be tough, neither of them would be able to fight up close.

Another of the darkspawn went down and Zalan had to risk it, he heard Harding yell out,

“Rook there’s too many of them, don’t!” But it was too late and he was weaving through the mass. He dodged around one set of claws aiming for him but he was trying to keep Harding away from the worst of it and took a few slashes to his legs and chest as he pushed through.

Then he heard a familiar screech and Assan’s shadow fell over the entrance.

He squawked and Davrin appeared, charging in and slicing behind Zalan as the rogue dashed by, turning on his heel so Harding could loose another shot. Assan screeched at them and flapped nearby, not able to get too far into the cave and the group retreated as Davrin cut through the ghouls.

They jogged a few feet away before slowing to a walk and Davrin, who didn’t look nearly as rough as the rogues, gestured to them.

“What happened to you two? We managed to lose our horde after taking out a few and where the paths met back up I didn’t see you guys.” Assan hovered near Zalan’s back, chirping at Lace who ruffled his head feathers, tipping Zalan to the side and almost causing them to topple over.

“We found an unexpected cave entrance-“ Zalan started, grunting with the effort to readjust. But he was interrupted when Davrin coughed and gestured to his back. When that didn’t get a reaction out of either of them the grey warden sighed shaking his head,

“Her face?” He asked but again with very little reaction he sheathed his sword and rubbed a section of his shield to a shine before holding it up for Lace to look into.

“You’ve got a cat face and I have a feeling Neve is going to be pissed.”

Trying to twist around to see over his shoulder he heard Harding gasp and he could only see part of her from the angle he was at but her eyes were big and round with slits for pupils, there was fur coming down around her cheeks and with her mouth gaping open as she patted at the features he could see feline sharp teeth.

Shuffling and crouching he slid the scout off his back and she stood there, her tail lashing behind her angrily and her ears pinning themselves down to her head.

“Davrin we need to get back to the lighthouse. Trade me, I’ll take the shield you can travel faster with her on your back than I can.” None in the party looked happy about this but Davrin nodded, handing off his shield and crouching. Harding whipped her head around to Zalan but climbed on anyway, whatever argument she might have had clearly not good enough if they needed to get back quickly.

“But we were following Emmrich’s orders, we were behaving. And it’s not like this place is swimming in magic or anything. I didn’t even use my rock powers this time.” She complained as Davrin stood and the group begun their run back to the Eluvian.

//

In the end Davrin had them leave his shield with Evka and Antoine to lighten the load. They dropped off the herb bundles they had managed to collect and keep safe despite everything, which the wardens were grateful for and the pair rushed through the mirror and the crossroads to get back to the lighthouse.

As soon as they stepped foot back into the Eluvian room they could hear Neve talking to Bellara who didn’t sound particularly happy.

“I thought they would have had more sense than to go tromping off that’s all.” She was saying though in an exasperated kind of way that made it seem like she did not in fact believe they had more sense than that.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon, you’ll see.” Bellara was trying to soothe Neve judging by her voice.

Davrin let Harding off his back and he and Assan walked off, Davrin patting Zalan’s back with a soft,

“Good luck.” As he passed them.

Harding slung her arm around Zalan as he helped her limp into the library and the muddy pair waved at Neve who was sitting with Bellara on the couch.

The tinkerer stood up with ah oh and Neve glared at them, concern marring the anger on her face.

The troop headed up the stairs and as soon as Harding was sitting on an infirmary bed Neve got closer to examine her face while Zalan tended to her leg, Bellara letting loose a small healing spell to help.

“We were just in Lavendale,” Harding explained, “Helping out with the darkspawn, that should have been safe.” She sounded defensive but Zalan felt the same way, sure they hadn’t stayed put but Lace hadn’t been climbing on him for any fun reasons out in the wetlands either.

Bellara went to go get Emmrich after shooting the scout a sorry look and Neve stood back and watched as Zalan cleaned and examined her injured ankle, apologizing quietly for the bruises.

“But you were out getting chased around and fighting. If Emmrich’s theory is right then any activity that gets your blood rushing could have triggered it.” She was leaning against another bed in the room and had her arms crossed but she couldn’t fool either of them she looked worried, which worried them.

“Lace we’ve only just got a list of the spell’s components and we still have to figure a counterspell for all of this.” She gestured to the cat pieces and her brows furrowed. “Before it gets worse.”

Harding had been holding onto Zalan’s shoulder while he had been kneeling to tend to her leg. She squeezed him now, worry marring her own face, the cat ears making it more apparent than ever what she was feeling.

“What does worse mean exactly? You’ll still be able to fix me if I turn fully into a cat won’t you?” She asked, a hint of panic edging into her voice.

Interrupting the two Zalan gestured at the foot and looked apologetically up at Lace.

“It’s dislocated, I have to pop it back…” The scout only nodded, bracing herself against Zalan. He hated doing it but it was always startling to remember she wasn’t some pushover when it came to pain. He’d watched her do it herself once during a mission with Varric and it had shocked him then too.

He applied the pressure and just as Neve opened her mouth, half standing up with some urgency Zalan popped the bone back in place.

Emmrich waltzed into the room, saw the two and tutted,

“Setting bones without magic? You two are surely giving poor Neve a headache.” He scolded, waving a hand around and casting healing magic to help sooth it and help it mend.

Then he launched into an examination, poking at Harding’s face and humming thoughtfully.

“I think we’ll be able to reverse it even if you change fully Lace.” Neve answered, picking up their conversation from before the bone setting.

“It should be the same, however we aren’t sure what you’ll be able to do if you changed fully. None of the research we’ve done indicates you’d be able to talk with us or use any kind of magic in animal form.”

That at least was a comfort to Zalan. At least there wasn’t a time limit to change her back before she became a full cat.

Emmrich stood back up straight clasping his hands together.

“Neve and I will begin working right away on the counterspell but I suggest staying in the lighthouse until it’s finished. It’s too risky that you’ll change again. And I would prefer if you still had the capabilities of speech when we attempt to turn you back.” Which felt like a dismissal enough for the assassin. Standing up and following Harding out of the room Zalan gestured to the bath and they veered off to grab their home clothes while the mages got to work.

//

The bath house room was wide and open with a handful of large pools of water for the veilguard to use for washing. There was even one smaller pool the group had discovered was a hot springs, much to several member’s delight.

The pair chose one in the back and sunk into the water after peeling off their muddy clothes.

Zalan wasn’t looking forward to trying to wash the mud out of his hair and gave a wary sigh as he undid the band keeping his hair tied.

Turning to offer to help Harding with her own hair ties he got a good look at her bare back, a strip of fur about a hand’s width went from the nape of her neck down to her tail bone where the tail sprouted from. He frowned a little but didn’t think he should mention it yet.

Gently tugging on her braid she turned and came closer, trying to untangle the muddy tie on one of her braids. He began working on another and he stole peeks at her face, scrunched up in concentration, as they worked.

Her ears were swiveled forward, almost tilting like her hands had their attention and he caught sight of her nails which had grown sharp and longer than the scout liked to keep them.

She got her braid free from the dried mud cake and started on the next and Zalan idly wondered if her toes looked like that too.

Grabbing the soaps the lighthouse kept on hand for them he poured some into her hair and started working the mud out of it.

Once she’d finished with her last tie both of them worked on untangling the braids and washing the mud from them.

It was quiet work apart from the soft whooshing of water and the two had taken turns working the dirt and muck from their hair.

Once the actual mud was gone the pair moved to the pool’s steps to sit down deeper in the water. Zalan working gently, scrubbing at her scalp with his blunt nails and adding a conditioning oil to her hair once the braids were all loose wet waves down her back.

“If they can’t turn me back…” Her voice was quiet and with her back to him he couldn’t inspect her face. But Lace sounded unsure of herself.

“I told you once I’d be here as long as you need me. And I meant it, still mean it.” He matched her quiet tone with one of his own. She leaned against his chest and tilted her head back at him. Her wet hair clung to him but he ran his fingers through it, brushing over her cat ears and giving them a scratch, amused when she leaned into the contact.

“You know what I mean.” She shook her head to try and keep herself on track. And he smiled, enjoying that he was being a distraction.

“If you permanently had ears and a tail?” He asked, shifting to be closer to her face. “I’d ask Bellara to make more fish for dinner to help keep all the fur silky.” He teased, having to dodge the water she flung at him.

Chuckling together Harding pulled at his neck, dragging him closer for a brush of lips.

“I’m serious.” She grumbled into his face, pulling away to scowl half heartedly at him. He leaned into her touch, feeling how her fingers tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck.

“So am I. And if you what turned into a cat? A whole actual cat? Then you could come with me on every mission like Assan. I bet you’d be pretty vicious with some claws.” Harding tugged at his hair this time, scowling at him but he tapped their foreheads together.

“Lace I wouldn’t just abandon you if something happened. We’d figure it out like we always do. Together.”

Retracting her fingers from his hair she sighed but nodded, combing through her own hair and brushing it to the side before leaning back against him again.

Stretching out he slid his hand along her fingers and she laced them together, settling their hands on her stomach as they pair enjoyed the warm water.

//

The warm water had done wondered for his sore body and sitting there holding Lace in his arms soothed any other aches he had. The dim natural lighting from the windows up near the ceiling of the room was relaxing and the combination eased Zalan into a light sleep.

His senses were still alert enough to hear the water but he dozed in and out for a little while. Time was hard to keep track of in the lighthouse with no sun cycles. He distantly wondered if the Caretaker was any closer to fixing that than the last time he’d asked. But he could tell if they didn’t get out soon someone was liable to come looking for them.

So with a sigh he began sitting up only to realize with a jolt that the weight he was expecting, Harding’s weight, wasn’t there.

Panic rushed through his veins and he sat up in a rush.

His brain worked too slowly to catch it in time but the much lighter form that had been curled up on his chest was dumped off him and into the water and Zalan stared at the wet flailing creature for a moment before his brain caught up.

Cursing he grabbed Harding, a small unnaturally red furred cat out of the water. Her claws sliced and dug into his arm as she clung to him in her mad escape from drowning.

Zalan got them out of the pool, blood running in rivulets down his arms but he crushed her to his chest trying to calm her down.

“Harding you’ve got to relax, I’m sorry.” But she didn’t look like she had any intention of doing that. Grabbing a towel and wrapping her up in it to contain the claws he struggled until she stopped moving, her eyes big and wild as they locked onto him.

He shushed her and managed to pin the bundle under a stool while he threw on his clothes, ignoring the blood, he’d have to look at the damage later. For now the fact his girlfriend did in fact turn into a cat was more concerning. The curse had concluded its timeline. He was sure Neve and Emmrich were going to have a fit when he got back to them.

= End Chapter =

[seaglassmelody]

Writing Challenge Weekend

I'm on time for once!! Did a little piece for @thedissonantverses Writing Challenge Weekend prompts as an art break :)

If you wanna participate, prompts are here!

I chose: Character A can't sleep and finds B not sleeping either.

AKA: Rook is haunted by the attack on Minrathous. Davrin can't stop thinking about the Gloom Howler. They meet in the Lighthouse library to talk it out.

----

For most of her life, Sabriel found sleep to be an unreliable friend.

On one hand, if there were a surface where she could position herself horizontally, she could fall asleep on it. On the other hand, her mind was always seeking new ideas, both good and bad.

She spent nights swimming through thoughts of ways to improve the world, new theses she wanted to research, the faces of people whose injuries she managed to heal and especially those she didn't. She swung wildly between story ideas, ways she could have approached conversations better, the endless ruminating over who her parents were and if she'd ever find their bodies in the Necropolis.

That one haunted her in particular. It was like the building itself was hiding them from her.

But even that haunting possibility was nowhere to be found tonight. Her mind was fixated on the image of Minrathous burning, the dragon's flames flickering against the ashen sky as she ran through the eluvian to Dock Town. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the dead in the streets, Neve's pale, angry expression.

The Viper's face, already showing signs of the Blight in his veins.

That's how she found herself curled up on the couch of the Lighthouse's library, staring at a book as the words swam before her tired eyes.

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't…" She sighed to herself, closing the book and setting it down on the table. She didn't want to bother the others, but didn't want to be alone, laying on that damned green couch in front of that giant wall of glass (who wanted to be stared at by fish while they were trying to sleep, Solas?!).

So here she was. Stuck awake. Too tired to focus, too guilty to sleep.

She jumped slightly as she heard the doors to the library open. The others had all claimed rooms outside, so she wasn't expecting anyone to come in until morning (though given how weirdly time passed in the Fade, maybe it was morning?)

"Can't sleep?"

It was almost a relief to hear Davrin's voice from the doorway, followed by the light click click of Assan's claws on the stone.

Davrin wasn't Bellara, so she wouldn't have to field a bunch of anxious questions about how Neve was or what Minrathous was going to do. Davrin wasn't Harding, so she wouldn't have to explain herself or attempt to accept comfort that she didn't want. And thank the Maker, Davrin wasn't Lucanis so they wouldn't have to sit and stew in communal guilt-ridden relief over Treviso.

Davrin was a professional. That was energy she could match.

She quirked a half-hearted smile at him as he approached. "Despite my best efforts, nope."

"How long does it take to get used to the perpetual sunlight around here?" He asked with a sigh, taking a seat across the table. "If it even is sunlight…"

Sabriel breathed a laugh. "We find ways around it. The Lighthouse seems to…make things? That we need? So maybe you can get some heavy curtains, if you wish hard enough."

Davrin made a face. "Don't like the sound of that."

"There's also the marketplace in the Crossroads. The spirits there sell some interesting items." She couldn't help the urge to tease him a little, tiredness overtaking her usual caution when socializing with new people.

"Sell? What do spirits even need money for?"

"You know, I asked myself the same question when the marketplace opened." Sabriel tilted her head, thinking. "They didn't answer. Wisps sure do love their secrets, I guess!"

"Necromancers…" Darvin muttered, shaking his head before settling back into his seat. "So, should I be worried that the boss has an insomnia problem?"

"Can't help but notice you're not really trying to sleep either." Rook shot back without heat. "Though to be honest, I think we all struggle a bit with sleep. The others usually congregate in the kitchen, from what I've picked up."

"And you didn't go there because…?"

Rook smiled self-deprecatingly. "People need time without "the boss" hanging around. And today was…" She trailed off, staring up at the ceiling.

"Bad?"

"A lot." She finished, looking back over at him. "Thanks for sticking around anyway, by the way."

He smirked a bit. "So this amount of excitement is typical around here then?"

She shrugged. "So far, unfortunately. Hoping for it to calm down now that we gave Ghilan'nain something to think about but…" She sighed, shaking her head. She didn't want to talk about Minrathous right now. "How are you holding up? With…the Gloom Howler and all."

Davrin studied Rook's face for a minute. "I'm pissed off." He finally admitted, hitting his fist against his leg. "I was supposed to be their bodyguard, and what do I have to show for it?"

Assan trilled and butted his head against Davrin's arm. Davrin lifted his hand and gently patted the griffon's head. "Yeah. I still have you, huh boy?"

Sabriel considered for a second. "Would…it help to have a small memorial service for Lancit and Remi?"

Davrin glanced at her, confused. "Why?"

She shrugged a little. "Mourn Watch thinking. Funerals are for the living, to be able to say goodbye. Maybe…it would help with the grief?"

"Hey, I said I was pissed, not sad."

"Grief gets expressed in a lot of different ways." Sabriel smiled at him sadly. "This might be a little presumptuous but…you're angry because you're grieving your friends. Because you feel like you should have done more to protect them. Them and the griffons." She caught his gaze, her eyes flashing. "We don't need the mourn the griffons because we're going to get them back. But Lancit and Remi…"

Davrin sat for a moment in contemplation. "Wardens know death can come at any time." He started hesitantly.

"All the more reason to honor them. And take strength from their example while you're still alive." Sabriel insisted, leaning forward on the couch.

Davrin sighed loudly out his nose. "You're damn persistent, you know that?"

"Wouldn't be much of a leader otherwise." Sabriel laughed in response.

"You know what? Fine. We'll try it your way." He ran a hand over his hair, quietly continuing, "Maybe then I can finally sleep…"

Sabriel smiled. "Tell me a little more about them, then? I'm more than willing to do things the Nevarran way, but it would probably mean more to give them a service that suits their backgrounds better."

"Yeah, all right. Lancit was a big talker, real good with the griffons…"

------

The next morning, Bellara and Lucanis were putting breakfast on the table as Harding entered the kitchen.

"Oh hey guys- wait, is Rook not in here?" She asked, looking around.

"Not yet." Lucanis confirmed, pouring himself a cup of coffee - probably at least his third of the morning, Harding was willing to bet.

"I think…she and Davrin might be a little while." Bellara replied cryptically.

"…Why do you say that?" Harding sounded suspicious.

"Well…I went to the library this morning, to find a book about the archive spirits?" Bellara twirled her bangs anxiously. "And Rook and Davrin were both sound asleep around the table. Davrin was still sitting up! Assan barely even budged when I walked in! So they must have been up pretty late last night…"

A heavy air hung in the room. The attack on Treviso and Minrathous was heavy on all of their minds.

"We'll keep some food warm for them." Lucanis said decisively.

The girls nodded in agreement before sitting down at the table. to start on their own meal.

Soon enough, the fight would be at their doorstep yet again. But hopefully some food and some rest would give them the energy to pick up the pieces and start again.

[himbopunk]

not sure when i'll get back to this one buuuut here's the first chunk from the thing i wrote with bellara meddling/wingmanning lucanis with rook/hakim after clocking his Yearning (kind of based off this sketch comic i did forever ago)

“AHH–!” 

Bellara yelps as her grip slips, nearly falling from the top of the lattice she was using to get onto the next Treviso rooftop. Fortunately, Hakim– more reliably known as Rook– had reflexes that were much quicker than hers, his hand quickly reaching out to catch her. The other elf was able to pull her up onto the roof where he and Lucanis stood without much effort. He was noticeably shorter than her, possibly the shortest in the Veilguard aside from Harding, but his physique was much broader than her own, at least on the top half.

 Bellara sighed in relief as she was able to climb up with his help.

“Thanks, Rook!” She said, somewhat breathlessly, taking a moment before getting up to her feet. She was no stranger to running around and climbing about, but she found herself somewhat out of her element whenever the group found themselves in cities like Treviso and Minrathous, especially compared to the pair of rogues with her. Lucanis was at home in Treviso, obviously, it was his home. Hakim seemed less familiar, but he always seemed in his element here. And in Minrathous, and even in the Necropolis… and in– well, no, actually he always seemed a bit nervous in Arlathan. Probably a healthy thing to be, though, even she sometimes–

“Bellara?” Rook called out, snapping her out of her head. She must have gotten lost in thought for a moment.

“Huh?”

“I just asked if you were okay? We can slow down if you need.” Rook looked at her, the furrow in his brow shifting the shape of the snake tattooed on his forehead just slightly. He seemed concerned more than any kind of frustration with her wandering mind.

“I think I’m okay!”

“Are you sure?” Lucanis asked. “It’s no trouble, we’re not in any rush to get back to the Diamond.” Which they’d need to zipline from the roof to get to… that was a lot less room for error than climbing up the side of a building was, maybe she should take a break…

“I’m fine buuut… if we wanted to take a little break up here, I wouldn’t say no!” Rook and Lucanis glanced at each other, slightly amused, but not saying anything about it outright.

“You know,” Rook says as he stretches his arms out above him, feigning a yawn. “I am getting a bit tired, too, and we’ve been making pretty good time. I’m sure Viago won’t miss us too much if we take a minute. Lucanis?”

“Relax for a moment on a peaceful Treviso rooftop? I don’t know, Rook, it’s a difficult decision, but if we must...” The assassin smirks at the other rogue, who was rolling their eyes at him, grinning. 

“The two of you aren’t even Crows, anyways, I wouldn’t worry too much about being late with Viago.” Lucanis shrugs.

“Oh, I don’t!” Rook exclaims, laughing. Lucanis chuckled alongside him, but there was a glint of something in his eyes as he looked at Rook. She’d noticed it more than once when she was around the two, and more than once around Neve as well. It was fleeting, and hard to decipher exactly, but she’d been noticing it more often than not as of late, especially when he made Hakim smile or laugh. 

The three walk across the connected rooftops, slowly, leisurely. They passed through a door where there was a small bench on the other side, not too far away from the roof that housed the zipline back to the casino. Lucanis noticed the bench first, directing the others towards it with a nod. Bellara hesitated for a moment.

“Did you want to–” She begins to offer Lucanis the seat, but he puts his hand up, interrupting her before she could finish.

“I’m alright, Bellara, but thank you.” He smiles softly at her and she smiles back, taking the seat. Lucanis stood next to her, leaning against the wall, but the moment of relaxation didn't last long, as it seemed like Rook had managed to completely vanish in the time it took her to sit down. Bellara gets right back to her feet, the both of them wary of their leader’s disappearance. 

It’s not unlike Hakim to sneak off from time to time, but a little warning would be nice, given all that the gods have been doing to get back the dagger that hangs on his hip. After a moment of careful scanning, the collective anxiety begins to pass. Bellara doesn’t see him, but can tell that Lucanis clearly noticed something, as he starts walking away with purpose She follows him close behind, across the rooftop, wondering what he caught that she missed. Of course, as they draw closer, she too hears it: a soft mew, followed by barely-audible purring, and the distinct sound of their fearless leader cooing to a small kitten. The pair turns the corner, finding Rook squatted down, scratching the stray behind the ears.

“Rook, sometimes I think you have a sixth sense for finding strays to pet.” Bellara teased, but the other elf barely paid her any mind, preoccupied with the kitten. She turned to Lucanis, expecting him to make a similar comment or joke as well. Instead, she felt as though she was witnessing a moment out of her serials, as that hint of something she sometimes caught, twinkling in Lucanis’ eye? That longing, as it was clear to her now, was written all across his face. He was completely lost in it, as he watched Rook’s moment of tenderness with the cat. The softness in his big, brown eyes, the slight smile… Sure, she had thought there was something going on between them, but now it was clear, Lucanis had it bad.

This put her in a bit of an interesting place, though, as Bellara also knew that Rook had a thing for Lucanis, they had for a while now. He’d brought it up a week or so back, he’d been a couple drinks in, lamenting about his unrequited feelings to her, Harding, and Davrin in the hidden music room. Harding seemed unconvinced by the unrequited end of it. Davrin threatened to tell Lucanis himself, if Rook wouldn’t, which of course they objected to. Of course, that then devolved into the two half-drunkenly roughhousing when Hakim tried to stop Davrin from leaving the room. Harding and Bellara had just sort of watched and laughed at the display. (Davrin won.) (Of course.)

Bellara recalled saying that she wasn’t sure, when he’d said it then, having only ever seen that occasional twinkle from earlier. But now? She knew this went both ways, and it seemed she wasn’t the only one. Harding could tell, Davrin too, but neither of the men involved seemed to have any clue. Should she say something to Lucanis, to Hakim? Both? No, they were both so bad at talking about feelings… putting them on the spot would only make things worse, if they even believed her. She’d have to figure something else out. She thought again about her serials, about how the moment reminded her of the one she’d read last year, where the Orlesian bard was caught gazing at the Guard-Captain, refusing to acknowledge her feelings but thrown into them by circumstance, as they were paired together at the Marquis’ gala, finally unable to–

Wait. Maybe that was it. Maybe Bellara needed to find some way to help them talk on their own, where the feelings were impossible to ignore…

Bellara cleared her throat, not loud enough to startle the animal, but just enough to get Lucanis’ attention. He suddenly became aware of what he was doing, of Bellara watching him stare, slightly flustered to be caught in the act of yearning. The man avoided eye contact, staring directly at the floor. She had moved closer to tease him quietly, when they felt a sudden, but distant, dull ache strike them both, interrupting the moment.

The sensation was very distinct, Bellara felt the strange vibration of it in her bones and teeth, and yet simultaneously somewhere far, far outside of her, like a sound in the distance. It wasn’t something she’d experienced often, as far as magic sensations go. The only significant time recently was when she had investigated goings-on in Minrathous with Rook and Neve. Unfortunately, that sensation could only be one thing.

“Blood magic…” She whispers, under her breath. She turned to Lucanis, the longing from a moment ago had evaporated entirely, his face awash in disgust as he seemed to be sensing something similar to her. He matched her gaze, as he realized the same.

“Venatori.” Lucanis hisses, in reply to her statement. Bellara feels a second thrumming energy nearby, a sensation she’d come to associate with the presence of the demon, Spite, even if she couldn’t hear him like Professor Volkarin– Emmrich was able to.

Though both statements were spoken softly, Rook had heard them, and immediately turned towards the other two, ready for action.

“Where? Here?” He asked, in hushed tones, as he approached the other two. Bellara nods.

“They must be nearby. Keep an eye out.” Lucanis says, blades already in hand. 

Bellara and Rook both pull their bows from their backs, ready to cover the Crow. She sighed quietly to herself, as the beautiful moment was entirely ruined by the task at hand. But there’ll be another time, she thought, there had to be some way to make this happen without their enemies interrupting things…

WIP WEDNESDAY THURSDAY 3/20/25

Hello, it’s WIP Wednesday Thursday, again! The confusingly named game where you:

Reblog this post with a snippet of whatever you’re working on (art, writing, music, crafts, whatever!) and I encourage you and comment briefly !

It doesn’t need to be Dragon Age! You can do whatever !

Because it is weekly, I won’t really be reblogging after Thursday is over, but you can still add stuff, if you want!

If you are looking for comments on/promotion of work that is currently being published, I do that on Bio(ware)feedback days! The next one is 3/22/2025!

Thanks for sharing your work, and have a great day!