#the stolen throne

[zazrichor]

summer nights in the korcari wilds

[dalish-rogue]

Dawn Before the Battle of River Dane

I'm so happy to share what I've been working on the last few weeks for @dacreateathon! This is the first illustration I've finished in nearly two years and it felt so great to be inspired to create again 💕

Check it out on AO3 here and the full collection here!

[pumpkincalico]

the stolen throne brainrot is real

[triaelf9]

Countdown to DAtV, day 2!

Art of The Stolen Throne trio that's pretty old, but that I still really like ^_^

If you want to join in on the Countdown hashtag, share a DA creation of yours that you've been wanting to repost! Let's share our old creations to get hyped for the new game!

[naturallylonesomefool]

There's such a visceral feeling to walking around in the Ortan Thaig with Alistair in Origins. He has his father's sword, and he's walking through the same places his father walked not once, but twice. Where his mother walked. Where Duncan walked.

And he just.. has no idea. I mean, shit, this is basically where he was conceived lol

History is repeating itself, and he's none the wiser. And the warden doesn't know this either, but me? I'm pausing the game every 5 minutes just to take it all in. I'm analyzing every spot to see how it matches up with the book and what I pictured. The implications of this have me gnawing at the walls. I'm feeling feelings fr.

[aeide]

why am I crying over loghain mac fucking tir

[bloedewir]

Dragon Age, "The Stolen Throne"

››› spoilers ‹‹‹

Mother Ailis: ...and after an exhausting battle on a Deep Roads your daddy fucked a random elven lass.. but do not worry child, your mommy wasn't upset much, she was really busy getting fucked by uncle Loghain five steps away.

Prince Cailan, 12 y.o:

[mostwantedpotato404]

Loghain (The Stolen Throne)

[one-eyedqueer]

it’s might be silly, even stupid and anything else you will call it, but this fact? i feel like i won something today. as a gay man who needs to headcanon straight men to feel safe and represented.

loghain was my favorite character in media for years. as polish person who is patriot and passioned in politics and history, i gets him even more. as a trans son without father approval, seeing his relationship with anora… i am crying and throwing. he is everything for me as fictional character.

he is old veteran giving me comfort. and now, it’s not just headcanon when he is canonically queer.

i know David Gaider won’t see this, but, his books means a world to me, the same as whole dragon age franchise.

never kill yourself. take care and love yourself.

[primarch-victus]

I finished reading The Stolen Throne. Tell me, why am I giggling and kicking my feet about Loghain Mac Tir...girlies I get it now I really do

[inquisimer]

for a moment (the sun knew of you too)

Oh, Icarus! For all you have fallen, still you flew! And, for a moment, the sun knew of you, too.

The first of my pieces written for @dragonageannual 2025! A short character study of Loghain at the end of the Battle of River Dane.

read it on ao3 here, or read below the cut!

-

Loghain wore the leather armor his father made for good luck, and good luck it brought. From the moment the rebel army crested the ridge above the River Dane, they owned the field. His arrows had tasted more Orlesian blood this day than the entire year before, and for every fallen rebel soldier, at least three Chevaliers fell with them.

That they succeeded so was a testament to the belief in their hearts. Their number ranged from seasoned Legion veterans to eager farmhands who hardly knew which end to grip a sword by. They were undisciplined and disorganized and chaotic.

They were victorious.

Rowan’s cavalry charge routed the remaining Chevaliers. Those still able attempted to flee across the river, launching half-empty rafts in their haste to escape the rebels’ fury. They left behind their wounded and dead, including their commander, who bellowed anger at their retreating backs as he lay prone and bloody on the ground.

So much for chivalry, Loghain thought bitterly. Unsurprising, though. He’d known chivalry to be dead for years, and none of these pretenders would have had any claim to it before, anyhow.

He stepped over corpses, retrieving arrows as he went. When he finally stood over the fallen commander, his quiver was full once more. But he hooked his bow to his back.

“Mongrel dog lord!” spat the Orlesian. “This means nothing! You are nothing compared to the might of—“

In one smooth motion, Loghain picked up the man’s longsword and drove it through his throat. The ensuing silence lasted for all of a heartbeat, then a raucous cheer rose from the patchwork regiment around him. Pride swelled within him as he pulled the sword free.

Years ago, his father had demanded he save the prince. But this was where Gareth Mac Tir’s legacy lived on—in the people that fought for each other and for their homeland. For what was right.

“All hail Loghain Mac Tir!” The cry came from Rowan, and he knew without looking that she would be grinning from her perch atop her horse. “All hail the Hero of River Dane!”

Across the field, everyone took up the cry. Loghain could not even begrudge them for it, not when their faces were bright and spirits uplifted for the first time in months. He looked as many as he could directly in the eye and etched the moment in his mind.

The fight was not yet over. But the enemy was on the run, and when Maric returned, the stolen throne would be within their reach. Bellowing in triumph, Loghain thrust the hard-won sword up to the sky and redoubled cries of victory echoed off the mountainside.

“The Hero of River Dane! All hail the Hero of River Dane!”

[veshialles]

damn kind of obsessed with the fact that The Warden and Loghain basically had the same start to their heroes journeys

[baelonthebrave]

rowan deserved to fuck loghain in the STREET after listening to maric cheat on her with some random girl he met yesterday who is trying to kill him. if they don’t fuck before the end of this book I’m going to david gaider’s house. girl you deserve so much more than a blond man!!!!

[pumpkincalico]

Maric, rowan and loghain have SUCH  chokehold on me it isnt funny

[miladydewintcr]

Happy Friday! FINALLY another Rowan/Katriel fan, so ofc I need to request the girlies, possibly with “Oh, the evil is that I am not jealous, is it?”

YESSS!!! They have so much potential omg?? And with an Emily Brontë quote too, you really have blessed me today!!

So imo the route this ended up taking is very Girl Crush - Little Big Town, which I actually think fits these two super well!!

For @dadrunkwriting

Rating: T Ship: Rowan x Katriel Word-count: 1430

Katriel imagined she could feel the heat of Rowan’s glare against her skin, though she knew that if she looked up from her sewing, the other woman would immediately avert her gaze before she could catch her.

Experimentally, she glanced up at her through her lashes, and tried not to smirk as she caught brown hair tossed over a shoulder- the only sign that Rowan had quickly turned to busy herself with scanning the horizon.

“How much do you know?” Katriel asked, gently, as she reached for her spool of thread.

Rowan’s attention snapped back to her, if it had ever truly left her at all. “You’ll have to be more specific,” she snapped.

Katriel chose to cut the thread with her teeth instead of reaching for her dagger, hoping that it would keep her from betraying her amusement with another smirk. It wasn’t that she enjoyed making Rowan suffer- far from it. She respected her a great deal, and felt genuine remorse for the role she’d played in so clearly breaking her heart. But there were so few people to verbally spar with in their little party. Loghain barely gave her one word at a time, and Maric, bless his heart, seemed to take most everything she said at face value. They’d ventured into the nearest village in search of supplies just now, leaving Rowan and Katriel to watch over their already scant belongings.

She took her time threading her needle, made Rowan wait a little bit before she responded to her. “Has Maric told you of us?”

“He doesn’t need to.” If Rowan rubbed her oiled cloth against the breastplate in her lap any harder, Katriel thought she might burn a hole through it. “I have eyes. Besides, you aren’t exactly subtle.”

“How has subtlety been working for you, my lady?” It wasn’t something she’d have said were they anywhere else, or anything but completely alone. An irate noblewoman could easily have her executed, and Katriel was, unfortunately, rather fond of living. But there was no-one else around to fulfil any orders Rowan might’ve issued, and it was very much up in the air that she’d ever have any sort of power outside of the battlefield again. She could afford to play with her a little.

If looks could kill, Rowan’s scowl would’ve stopped her heart. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, glaring daggers. “I suppose you would have me throw myself at him?” She adopted a poor Orlesian accent; “Oh, Maric, I am but a poor, helpless woman! Protect me with your sword and your big, manly arms.” She rolled her eyes. “Please. Some of us have dignity.”

Katriel hummed. “That may be so. But only one of us has him, so really, who is winning just now?”

It was a step too far. Katriel realised it the moment she saw Rowan set her breastplate aside. She was on her feet in seconds, sword in her hand, and Katriel set her sewing down in her lap even as the tip of the blade kissed her neck.

This would require de-escalating, and fast.

“It is perfectly natural to be jealous, my lady.” No, wrong thing to say. Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Many kings have dalliances. It is practically a given in Orlais. When all is said and done, he will choose you. It is the only option he has. As progressive as the Ferelden nobility believe themselves to be in comparison to their neighbours, they will not tolerate an elf in any sort of close proximity to their new king. Especially not one from Orlais.”

She held her breath as she awaited Rowan’s response, relaxing slightly as she felt the blade against her skin relent just a little. “You don’t know Maric very well if you believe that.”

Katriel smiled sadly. Her sweet, naive, darling of a prince. “I’ve served in enough nobles’ houses, my lady. I know how these things go.”

Rowan, too, lacked the typical Orlesian noble’s capacity to lie. Like Maric, her every emotion showed plain on her face, and Katriel couldn’t help but feel guilty as she watched her lips tremble. “I am not jealous,” she said stubbornly.

“Of course not, my lady,” Katriel agreed, because there was very much still a sword at her throat.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

She frowned. “Like what?”

“Like I’m some… some wounded animal! Or a foolish child with no prior experience of heartbreak!”

Katriel very much felt she was both, but she schooled her expression into a callous veneer of calm, now that she knew sympathy was unwelcome.

“Say something,” Rowan said, after a moment of unbearable silence.

“Only when you’ve removed your sword from my neck.”

Reluctantly, Rowan complied, giving it a little flourish before returning it to the scabbard at her hip. A show of confidence that neither of them really quite believed in.

Katriel set her sewing down on the ground beside her and stood. She’d noted enough similarities between Rowan and Maric, their naivety, their penchant for playing the hero, that she suspected this would work. If it didn’t, then, worst case scenario, Rowan would kill her.

No different to any other job, then.

She closed the distance with a deliberate sway of her hips, reaching up to rest her hands on Rowan’s shoulders. When she didn’t flinch away, Katriel slowly dragged her fingers down her biceps. “The problem,” she said softly, lifting up on her tiptoes, pausing just shy of her lips, “is that nobody could ever look at you and believe you in need of protecting, my lady. Men like Maric need to feel themselves the hero.”

Rowan took a step back, though Katriel’s hands remained on her despite the distance. “So the issue is that I am not feminine enough for my betrothed?”

Katriel suspected she had chanced upon a particular sore spot. She fought the urge to sigh as she followed after her. “Not at all. One can be feminine without being helpless, and vice versa.”

“And you?” Rowan asked. This time, as Katriel rocked up onto her toes, Rowan did not pull away.

Katriel ran her hands back up Rowan’s arms, dared to risk sliding one to the back of her neck. “I did not have the combat training you did, my lady.”

“So the daggers…?” Rowan trailed off pointedly.

“I am not entirely helpless.” Katriel moved in for the kill kiss again, stopping just short once more. She could not take the finale move. It had to be her. “Unless,” she whispered, “you want me to be.”

Rowan frowned. “Why in the world would I want that?”

This time, Katriel just barely caught her eye-roll in time. Maker, she was just like Maric in this regard. Hoping to distract Rowan from her almost-slip-up, Katriel pretended to fall into her slightly, pressing the length of her body up against hers. This, usually, worked on her betrothed. “You tell me.”

Rowan’s eyes fluttered closed, and she took a deep breath. “You’re very beautiful, Katriel, but I want Maric. And I thought you did, too.”

Oh. Oh no. She’d misjudged things, taken it too far, and now she risked her carefully constructed illusion shattering around her like glass. Katriel unattached herself from Rowan, curiously unable to keep from the indulgence of trailing her fingers down her arms as she stepped back.

As she reached Rowan’s wrists, she went to pull away- but then Rowan was turning her hands, catching hers before she could do so.

Katriel raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, and waited.

“I…” Rowan began. She swallowed. “I need to take a walk.”

“Oh?” Katriel was unable to keep the amusement from her voice.

“Yes. Um.” Rowan glanced over her shoulder, in the direction the others had gone, before dipping her head, her cheek to Katriel’s. “If you tell anyone else about this, I will kill you in your sleep,” she murmured.

If Katriel was surprised (and not a little impressed) by the threat, then she was entirely floored when Rowan released her hand to take her chin between her thumb and fingers instead, and pressed her lips to hers.

Getting over her initial shock quickly, Katriel melted into the kiss, parting her lips to-- and Rowan was gone.

“Not a word,” the future queen hissed, cheeks red, before she turned and started walking in the direction of the village. No doubt in search of the men, and the nice, sturdy protective barrier she hoped they would form around her. Not helpless, indeed.

Katriel watched her disappear over the horizon, sewing in hand, and smiled to herself.

[hylorien]

Loghain wants Maric so bad it makes him look stupid