#yes you too vorgoth

[virginiathegray]

when Bioware said this would be the most romantic game yet, maybe they didn't mean there would be the most romantic content but rather that each and every npc would be so devastatingly hot that we would all fall to our collective knees begging for just one chance bc if so they didn't exactly lie

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Bellara (and also the Veil Jumpers, and other random Elven things) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Bellara

Family and past:

Bellara’s mother is a woodworker who sells furniture in Orlais, and her father is an herbalist. He taught her about deadly plants (for her own safety)

Bellara didn’t tell her parents about Cyrian’s (second) death

Bellara once broke both of her arms while racing an Aravel 

Bellara learnt magic from her Keeper and later the Veil Jumpers, but she also studied a lot on her own by reading books and just trying things out

When she was little, Bellara wondered what it’s like to settle down instead of moving all the time (just like Davrin did) 

General:

Bellara can better focus on writing when she has background noise (like Rook talking)

Bellara likes tea (but can also drink coffee after she pulls an all-nighter, which seems to happen pretty often)

Bellara liked Lucanis’s grilled fish

Bellara didn’t know any Qunari recipes before joining the Veilguard

Bellara wouldn’t want to be an assassin, but she would be interested in taking lessons from Crows about assassination techniques

Bellara thinks that most people in Tevinter are condescending, even the nice ones 

Magic and life with the Veil Jumpers: 

Bellara once found an artifact that was basically an ancient elven mechanical toothbrush 

Bellara is a Veil Jumper because Arlathan is her home, and she can’t stand by and do nothing. Also, because of the artefacts

Part of the reason why Irelin and Bellara broke up is that Bellara became too consumed by studying/fixing artefacts 

Bellara and Davrin agree that the Veil Jumpers’ odds are even worse than the Wardens’

Bellara thinks that the ancient Elven magic feels cold

Bellara didn’t find anything on the Devouring Storm in the libraries or Circles. Vorgoth and Myrna never heard of it either 

Life at the Lighthouse: 

Bellara owns a bronze candleholder shaped like a fennec

Bellara thinks that the Fade in the Lighthouse is almost too calm compared to Arlathan

Bellara likes her space in the Lighthouse and feels like “it's been waiting for her”

The Archive sometimes stares at people who come by

Bellara eventually suggests that she and Lucanis completely take over the cooking. Everybody except for Harding dreaded any meal not cooked by them anyway and gleefully agreed

Antoine let Bellara borrow his compound for flaming arrows to see how it reacts in the Fade (she doesn’t speak about the results, but she used at least one compound for testing without incidents and later wants to borrow more) 

Relationships with companions: 

Bellara offers Davrin to listen about his findings regarding the Gloom Howler as he searches for the missing griffons, saying she's a good listener

Bellara asks Neve if she can become a Shadow Dragon and is very excited when she hears “Yes”

However, when Emmrich offers her to join the Mourn Watch, she turns him down saying that the Veil Jumpers need her. 

A writing inconsistency. Probably. 

Neve once saw Bellara poking around Assan, trying to figure out if he was real or some clever mechanical contraption 

Bellara wants to make pillows out of Assan’s molted feathers (but Davrin refuses because he finds it weird)

Bellara made dog biscuits for Assan (that Davrin accidentally ate the first time). The next time she brought a batch, she left them in a box labelled “Assan biscuits inside, do not eat.” Assan liked them!

Bellara once covered Assan in olive oil thinking it could improve his wind resistance and let him fly faster. Didn’t work. 

Bellara offers Emmrich to co-author a paper about ancient elves after they find out elves came from spirits

Bellara asks Emmrich about vampires multiple times. According to him, when a Hunger Demon possesses a corpse, the resulting abomination can seek out blood, sort of resembling a vampire. They can't turn into bats though

According to Neve, some magisters in Minrathous have tried bonding with Hunger Demons which resulted in them having immense power but also a craving for blood 

Bellara and Harding swap books for reading

Bellara gets into lifting using Harding's rocks

Bellara doesn’t think she needs to threaten Lucanis when she finds out he and Neve are dating because Neve could wipe the floor with him herself if she wanted (Lucanis agrees) 

Bellara is fine with Lucanis taking on Ghilan’nain’s contract (“Whatever we were worshipping, it wasn’t her") and cheered him on at Weisshaupt

Bellara asks Neve to beta-read her story

(If Neve and Rook are in romance) Bellara thinks that solving cases together is romantic

(If Neve leaves after Rook chooses to save Treviso) Bellara kept notes of everything that happened while Neve was away to help her adjust after she’s back

About the Veil Jumpers:

Bellara mentioned that a certain elf camped in some ruins, and one day woke up stuck in the clouds. The Veil Jumpers haven’t figured out a way to get them down, so they just send them food and water

Veil Jumpers use some of the artefacts they have recovered as weapons. However, they don’t use them often, since most of them need to be charged after one use, and nobody really knows how to do that 

Veil Jumpers eat whatever Arlathan Forest provides

Though Bellara also mentions she doesn’t forage in the forest anymore. Strife does, however, he always finds something edible

It’s hard to say how many Veil Jumpers are out there because people die/go missing/leave too often to keep a proper count

The Veil Jumpers once found an artefact that caused whoever activated it to get sucked into the Fade. One guy got trapped inside because he used it even if the others told him not to. Bellara is weirdly nonchalant about that whole thing

The Veil Jumpers once found something like an entrance to the Deep Roads on the Southern Edge of Arlathan Forest. The group that found it sealed themselves inside and destroyed the entrance, leaving a note telling the others not to enter. Davrin hypothesises it could be one of the pools similar to the one we saw in the Horrors of Hormak

Ritsivas from the Veil Jupmers is non-binary (mentioned by Harding in a conversation with Taash)  

Misc:

The power crystals are called “June'suledin'bellanaris'ena'ghilan'lasa'shiral”. You may infer the reasons everybody just calls them 'power crystals'

Not all traps in Elven ruins were originally meant to be traps, but their magic is old, so it doesn’t recognise modern people and can backfire. And sometimes magic just degrades over time and accidentally rips the Veil, summoning demons

Andruil’s Gauntlet is an ancient site meant to test hunters who want to wield the mightiest weapons. It’s filled with traps, and no one has made through it in ages. It was made by Andruil’s priests to test the warriors of Elvhenan 

Clans Nuvenis and Sabrae live in Ferelden. Harding’s village traded with the Sabrae in the past

[kirain]

Part ten of my appreciation project.

@zecarnevilcat A fic based on their wonderful art piece here. Thank you for feeding the fandom!

The Fade closed in, a haze of twisting shadows and distant whispers. Varric was gone, and Lenore stood in the gloom, friendless and adrift. The air smelled of old magic, thick and cloying, the only light straight ahead—a soft, flickering glow that pulsed like a dying star.

Through the silence, she heard it.

"Lenore!"

A voice—rough, desperate—cut through the abyss like a blade. Her breath caught.

"Emmrich?"

There, beyond the shifting mists, a figure emerged, silhouetted against the light, reaching for her.

"Here! I'm right here!" The voice came again, urgent, distressed.

Despair curled around her, nipping at her heels like a pack of ravenous wolves. Even after Varric's reassurance, it was inescapable—a curse inherent to that awful place. Panic surged through her every muscle, every nerve as the rift began to close, the edges fraying like torn cloth. If she hesitated now, she would be lost forever.

Arm outstretched, she hurled herself forward.

Closer.

Almost.

Then—fingers locked painfully around her wrist, and the world cracked apart.

With a lurch, she was ripped from the Fade, her body slamming into the earth. The sudden change in pressure made her feel weak, nauseous, but warmth enveloped her—slender hands gripping her tightly.

An anchor in the chaos.

As she gasped, the air heavy but familiar in her lungs, a pair of arms wrapped around her, tormented and shaking.

"Darling..."

Her eyes widened. She could feel a man's breath in her hair, his chest rising and falling with dry, shuddering sobs. He was clinging to her as though she might vanish again, as though sheer will alone could keep her bound to reality.

Though dizzy and disoriented, she managed to lift her head, glancing up at him.

"...Emmrich?"

She barely recognised him—his shirt wrinkled, face dirty, somehow older.

"Are you—?" Her throat clenched. "Are you real?”

He inhaled sharply, and for a moment, he simply stared at her, his expression caught between agony and relief. Then, his grip on her tightened, his lips parting around a trembling breath.

"Yes, darling. It's me."

The emotion in his voice nearly undid her, but before she could say another word, darkness clouded her vision, her mind reeling.

And then—nothing.

-----

Weeks earlier, Emmrich's study lay in ruins. Parchments littered the desk, torn and crumpled in frustration. Broken daggers lined the floor, their runes inert or ineffective. The air reeked of burnt ink and scorched metal—remnants of his failed attempts at replication. No matter the method, no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he begged, the result was the same.

Worthless.

He sat hunched at his desk, head hanging, fingers knotted in his hair. His shoulders throbbed from relentless work, and his breath came slow and shallow, as if even that required too much effort.

"Professor?"

The door creaked open. Bellara shuffled inside, the rich aroma of spiced tea trailing behind her. She entered with a smile, but she barely took two steps before her eyes swept over the shambles of his study, her legs numbing at the sight. She had never seen it, or him, in such disarray. It was unbearably worrisome, but when she spoke, her inflection was sweet, attempting to pull him from his sorrow.

"Where's Manfred?" she asked, his absence palpable.

Eventually, Emmrich whispered, "With Myrna."

Bellara's eyes drifted to Johanna's perch. Empty.

"And Hezenkoss?"

"I couldn't stomach her snide remarks," he rasped, his eyes shut tight. "Vorgoth is watching her for now."

Bellara frowned, hurrying to his side.

"Emmrich, listen." Her tone was soft, careful. "We'll get her back."

She placed the tea by his elbow, but he didn't drink it. He didn't move at all. Not a twitch. Not a breath deeper than the last.

"Emmrich..."

Her hand found his back, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. She could feel the tension beneath his shirt, the grief woven into his stillness.

"Don't give up. If anyone can crack Solas' prison, it's you."

He didn't respond, on the verge of collapse. He needed rest, food, company—he didn't deserve to suffer like this—but she didn't want to push him.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I'll come running," she giggled. "We all will. We're here for you."

She then turned away, respecting his space.

"I told her to do it."

Bellara froze.

"What?"

Emmrich's fingers curled against his scalp, his voice faint. "Lenore... I told her to break the knife's contact with Ghilan'nain."

Bellara blinked, too stunned to speak. Then, the words tumbled from her lips, eager to sever his guilt.

"Emmrich, no. Don't do that to yourself. If the process hadn't been interrupted, that whole region would've been swarmed by spirits and blight. You made the right call."

"It should've been me..."

She stepped closer, her brows drawn. "Emmrich, you can't blame yourself for—"

His head snapped up, the movement sudden, rigid.

"And we argued! I argued. Before the attack. I was so stubborn and cruel, disregarding everything she said. And now—!" His breath hitched, fingers clawing at his silver strands. "I may never get a chance to apologise. How do I—?"

His composure shattered.

"How the fuck do I save her?!"

Bellara winced. She reached out to comfort him, but he barely seemed aware of her presence as he shot to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor. His hands braced against the desk, his eyes scanning the useless notes, the barren runes, the impure lyrium—all pathetic imitations of power he had no hope of rivalling.

Fury erupted.

He snatched a blade from the pile, carving tool in his other hand, and dragged the tip across the lyrium. Magic flared in a reckless surge—an obvious warning—but his grip tightened, his hews frenzied, erratic, desperate to force enchantment where none could take root.

The rune on the handle sparked, then sizzled with an angry hiss.

"Emmrich!" Bellara stumbled back. "Emmrich, don't—!"

The blade split.

A violent explosion of arcane energy burst outward, flinging the desk and all of its contents across the room. The loud crash echoed off the walls, reverberating down the hall, betoning his folly.

As smoke filled the air, Bellara covered her mouth, her heart aching.

"Emmrich?" she coughed.

He stood amidst the wreckage, his head bowed, hands battered. His ears rang from the blast, but the only sound he heard was the one that had lingered for weeks—Lenore's scream.

"F-forgive me..."

His vision blurred, though whether from the smoke or his tears, he couldn't say.

-----

Lenore woke with a start.

Air flooded her lungs as if she'd surfaced from drowning, her chest heaving. The world around her was bleary, bright—but before she could panic, strong arms pulled her against a solid chest, so tight that it hurt.

"You're safe," a voice hushed, quiet and restless. "You're home."

Her eyes fluttered, the weight of exhaustion pressing on her lids, but she forced them open—to see who held her in such a protective embrace.

"Emmrich?" she whispered, his name a soothing caress.

He sat beside her on the bed, his grip fierce, afraid she might slip through his fingers if he so much as flinched. When he drew back, it was only enough to cup her face, his palms unusually coarse, the skin scabby and yellowed.

"It's me," he promised.

The moment their eyes met, his breath seized. Lilac. His favourite colour.

Maker, how he'd missed it.

Seeing her again—uninjured and alive—sent a pang through his heart, his fingers brushing over her cheeks, her neck, her lips. The touch was delicate, reverent, as though he feared she might break if he pressed too hard.

"Emmrich? Are you—?"

She stilled, letting him trace her features as disbelief flickered in his gaze. He looked terrible—his normally neat hair disheveled, dark circles bruising the hollows of his eyes, a wispy scruff marring his jaw. This wasn't the wear of hours, but days—days he hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't stopped.

"How long?" she choked.

Emmrich paled, wishing he could spare her the truth. "Three and a half weeks."

Her gasp was guttural, the revelation hitting her like a blow. She hadn't known, she couldn't have known, but she swallowed it down. Her time in the Fade had been an endless, confusing blur of despair, the loss of Varric fresh, but seeing Emmrich's anguish made her own pain seem trivial.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"What?"

Her brow furrowed, her nails digging into his sleeves. "You must've been so scared. You must've been—" She bit down, ruing all the ways he'd clearly tortured himself. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"No." He shook his head insistently. "No, no, no, darling. None of this is your fault."

"But—"

He hugged her again, his fingers threading through her long, fragranced hair. "I have you back. That's all that matters."

He kissed her temple, drinking her in. Few escaped the Fade unscathed—mind or body—and he couldn't begin to fathom what horrors she had endured.

"Are you all right, my dear?"

The question struck harder than he intended, splintering her resolve. A shudder racked her very soul, and before she could stop them, the words spilled free.

"I... I saw them," she stuttered, her voice cracking.

"Who?" Emmrich asked.

"Varric, Neve... Harding."

"Oh, Lenore. My darling, it wasn't—"

"I saw all of them. Everything. My regrets. Every life I shouldn't have taken. Every contract that felt wrong. It was all there, Emmrich... taunting me."

Her eyes stung. She tried to hold back, but the memories—the nightmare—haunted her.

"Emmrich," she wept, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Have we helped anyone?" She gestured weakly between them. "Is this even real... or am I still trapped?"

"What?" he wheezed, startled by the suggestion.

"I still feel like I'm falling," she admitted. "Like at any moment this room will crumble, and I'll wake up in some past hell I'd give anything to forget."

"Lenore..."

"I'm sorry. I just can't tell. I can't—"

Before she could spiral further, Emmrich leaned in, pressing his lips into hers.

The kiss was overwhelming, confident, erasing her doubts in an instant. As he held her close, pouring every ounce of certainty into her, his hands slid up her shirt, stroking her back, shredding the hints of despair that dared to dwell in his presence.

He wouldn't allow it.

As he deepened the kiss, his tongue skimmed the outline of her lips before slipping inside, seeking hers with a slow, passionate rhythm.

"Mmph..." Lenore moaned, melting into it.

The heat of his mouth, the command, the way he trembled against her—it was real. He was real.

This was real.

And she let herself enjoy it, as he desired.

When he pulled away, they were both panting, flushed and lustful.

"You didn't give in," he praised, gently grinding his forehead into hers. "That's how I found you. You never stopped fighting." His hands moved to her face, thumbs wiping her tears. "Don't stop now, Lenore. You're strong. You're a good person. And I love you."

"I love you, too," she sniffed.

For a while, they sat in each other's arms, eyes closed, listening, tasting. He kissed her again, ashamed of his slovenly state, but wanting her—needing her—to believe him. She wasn't alone, and she never would be again.

"And I'm the one who should be apologising. Not you."

Lenore tilted her head. "What for?"

"For the argument. I was a fool. I should've—"

She smiled. It was small at first, hesitant. But it grew, beautiful and sure, a spark reigniting behind her tired eyes. She forgave him without a single word, and it nearly broke him.

"Thank you," he whimpered. He cradled her face a moment longer before rising to his feet. "Rest now. You need to recover."

But Lenore shook her head, swinging her legs over the bed. As she struggled to stand, Emmrich rushed to her aid, his hands grasping hers.

"What are you doing?" he asked, concern laced through every syllable.

She met his gaze, her lilac eyes shining with renewed purpose.

"Gather the team," she grinned. "We're going after Elgar'nan."

[spinfins]

Please I need more of Manfred and Fred the Frog 🐸 😍💖💚💀💚

As you wish! <3

Fred the frog was having a wonderful first day, Manfred was sure of it. Firstly, because he got a new house.

“Please, Lace,” Emmrich asked their dwarf friend, “I’m a little out of my depth here.”

Harding’s mouth twitched. “Are you saying that you don’t know how to take care of something that’s…alive?”

“Harding, please!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Harding swallowed her giggles. “First we need a terrarium…”

“We have that,” Emmrich said, looking a little relieved they were on the right track. “Vorgoth had a very nice one on hand that he wasn’t using…”

“Vorgoth?” Lace giggled again. “What was he using it fo–?”

“Harding.”

“Okaaaaay, sheesh. Just being curious.” She winked at Manfred, who hissed in delight and concentrated very hard on not squeezing Fred too tightly. He didn’t want his eyes to bug out again and Emmrich to scold him.

“We should have everything we need in my room.”

And they did, with Harding’s help they filed the terrarium with mud, slime and mossy plants. In one corner they constructed a little pool of water with lovely stones for Fred to enjoy.

Emmrich said it was splendid, and Manfred agreed.

Lace graciously accepted their thanks and took her leave.

“Nice to meet you, Fred,” She giggled, and Manfred immediately thought: What a good idea! And took his leave also, leaving Emmrich slumped on his chair in relief.

The second part of the day was even better than the first, because Fred got introduced to all of Manfred’s friends.

“Oh hey! Nice frog!”

“Ahhh it’s so cute!”

“Mierda!”

And so on. It went very well and Manfred’s bones were clacking with pride and excitement, right up until the time he went to introduce Fred to his very best friend, Assan.

-

Taash winced and covered their ears.

“What’s with all the screaming!?” they bellowed at Bellara.

“What?!” Bel took a wad of cotton out of her ear.

“What’s with all the noise?!”

“Oh. Assan tried to eat Fred!”

Taash blinked in alarm, sure they hadn’t heard right. No way. Those two were as thick as a pair of Lords. They’d never turn on each other.

“What?!”

Bellara pointed and Taash went to look.

The courtyard just outside the library doors was in chaos. Assan was in air jail, held aloft by Davrin and Rook’s combined efforts. He screeched and pawed at the empty air for freedom. Manfred hissed angrily back at him from behind Emmrich.

“What’s going on!?” Taash roared.

Instantly Assan fell still and silent. He stared at the dragonslayer with wide eyes and gulped. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the noise ceased. Emmrich pushed his hair back into place.

“There was a misunderstanding,” he said.

Manfred hissed resentfully and clutched something against his ribcage.

“No, it was!” Emmrich told him sternly. “Assan is still very young. You are the elder. You cannot always expect him to tell the difference between a snack and a friend. That’s not fair.”

“Why would Assan try to suddenly eat Manfred?” Taash said, their question still very much not answered.

Everyone, including Assan from where he hung limp in Davrin’s arms, blinked at Taash in confusion.

“Oh,” Rook said, “No. not Manfred, Taash, Fred.”

Manfred slipped out from behind Emmrich and held his cupped hands aloft for Taash to have a clear view of the bright green creature inside. It blinked at her with large orange eyes.

“That’s a frog,” Taash said.

“We know,” said Davrin and Emmrich in eerie (and very flat) unison.

“FRED!” Manfred pronounced.

“You named it after yourself?”

Manfred hissed in affirmation.

Yes, Fred the frog was having a very good first day indeed.

[acepalindrome]

Almost fifty years ago, Vorgoth learned that one of the newest arrivals to the Necropolis’ orphanage had gone missing, and decided to help in the search. The Necropolis was no place for a child to wander unattended, and they always had a soft spot for children.

The child in question was about eight years old, dark hair, lanky, and very fearful of nearly everything. The caretakers had told Vorgoth that some of the other children had found this funny, and played a cruel prank that frightened him so badly, he took off running into the depths of the Necropolis.

After some searching, Vorgoth did eventually find a very small Emmrich, hiding behind a collection of large urns and sobbing inconsolably. He froze in wide-eyed panic when he noticed Vorgoth’s presence, backing against the wall behind him as if he wanted to flee into the stone.

“DO NOT FRET, SMALL ONE,” Vorgoth said, in what they liked to think of as their ‘friendly voice.’ “I AM HERE TO ASSIST IN YOUR RETRIEVAL.”

Emmrich did not respond. Tears were still pouring down his cheeks, and his breaths were coming faster, slipping into panic.

Oh dear.

“PLEASE CALM YOURSELF, CHILD,” Vorgoth said, trying to remember the breathing exercises the Mourn Watch caretakers taught to their young charges. They had not possessed lungs in many centuries, but it was helpful to know in times like these. “BREATHE IN THROUGH YOUR NOSE, SMALL ONE.” Yes, that was part of it.

Emmrich was still pressing himself tightly against the wall, but he did close his mouth and took a couple somewhat sniffly breaths through his nose.

“AH,” Vorgoth said, remembering the other steps. “ER. WAIT, CHILD, YOU MUST HOLD IT IN. HOLD THE BREATH FOR SEVEN SECONDS. THEN RELEASE IT SLOWLY.”

Vorgoth’s ’friendly voice’ must have been doing the trick, because the boy thankfully followed the instructions. The tears seemed to be slowing too.

“VERY GOOD, SMALL ONE.” Some of the tension seemed to be leaving Emmrich’s shoulders as he followed the pattern of breathing, and Vorgoth risked kneeling down on his level. The boy flinched at the movement, but didn’t seem ready to bolt like a spooked rabbit anymore. “NOW, I HAVE FAILED TO INTRODUCE MYSELF. I AM KNOWN AS VORGOTH. COULD I INQUIRE AS TO YOUR NAME?”

[serbarris]

I'll Crawl Home to Her 

Dragon Age: the Veilguard, some spoilers for plot, spoilers for Emmrichs romance  Pairing: F!Rook (Mourn Watch) x Emmrich Volkarin  Rating: M   Summary: Eight significant times Emmrich Volkarin called Rook by her real name. 

Length: ~2500 words

Read on ao3 here! 

Emmrich Volkarin first called Calliope ‘Rook’ Ingellvar by her name before she went by Rook. 

“Miss Calliope,” Emmrich called over the heads of the handful of students leaving his classroom. At the sound of her name coming from her favourite professor, Calliope instantly flushed and motioned to some companions that they should go ahead without her. “A word if you don’t mind.”  

“Yes, Professor?”  She asked biting her lip. Professor Volkarin was her favourite, not just for his fantastic necromancy skills, or how eloquently he explained such fantastic concepts, but he was also very attractive. At age 35 his hair was greying at the temples, lending him to look even more distinguished than his carefully put-together clothing suggested.  

“I’ve heard from others about your certain... proclivity, to have some ‘adventures’ outside of the Necropolis,” Emmrich began, shifting her paper to the top of the pile, noticeable stains and grease marks littering the off-white sheets. A disapproving frown crossed his face. “I will ask that your future work be submitted with less detritus than the most recent assignment.”   

Calliope looked at her paper and a brighter red coloured her cheeks and chest, “Of course Professor, I’m so sorry. I swear I don’t usually do work outside of the library, but something happened with –.”  

Emmrich held up his hand to stop the ramble from leaving Calliope’s mouth. A soft smile graced his lips, “Not to worry, my dear, but your work is excellent and you should take pride in it. Now please, I have taken up so much of your time already, run along and join your friends.”

 

The second time Emmrich says her name it’s when they meet again, 15 years later. 

Rook had yet to admit to Bellara, or Myrna and Vorgoth, that she did indeed know Professor Emmrich Volkarin, and of his work. Luckily her time away from the Watchers had helped steel her emotions, calm her once easy-to-flush cheeks, and made lies flow smoothly, but she had been anxious all week in the lead-up to their Necropolis visit. Bellara even commented on her makeup that morning, making Rook flush and attempt to wipe some away with the back of her gloved hand.  

-  

“Rook! Lovely to meet a fellow Watcher,” Emmrich exclaimed as he gripped her hand, shaking it politely. “I must confess I apologise if I have you confused, but Myrna had mentioned a ‘Calliope’ to me?”    

Calliope’s face dropped from her measured welcoming smile to a startled expression. Letting go of Emmrich’s hand, she attempted to speak voice unsteady, cheeks flushed. “Uh, yes Professor, Calliope Ingellvar. My friends call me Rook. It uh, caught on in the year since I left the Necropolis.”  

“Ah, no worries, my friend. I shall follow suit.” Emmrich turned with a flourish, leading Bellara and Calliope to the Belfry. Calliope internally kicking herself over the interaction.  

The third time Emmrich said her name was after they shared tea in the Memorial Gardens. 

“Speaking of home, have we really never met around the Necropolis before? Even in passing?” Emmrich’s eyebrows raised as he asked the question. Rook’s eyes widened feeling like a halla in the lamplight. An uncomfortable feeling churned in her stomach as she debated how much of her past to reveal. Especially, how enamoured she was with Emmrich as a young adult.  

“Oh um, I don’t remember everything from my scholar days. I only took a few advanced classes. Got too... busy.” Rook’s mouth dried at the admission. It was a half truth, she remembered nearly every moment of her schooling, growing up with the senior Watchers as guardians, and more books for company than friends, she was in advanced classes at a younger age than many of the other Watchers her age. 

“You know, I’d heard we had a young Watcher getting into scrapes on the streets of Nevarra around then...” Emmrich mused, Rook could almost see the cogs whir in Emmrich’s brain as he searched his memories for a young Rook.  

“They weren’t scrapes! They were... extracurricular learning opportunities.”  

“Aha! That's it! Calliope, you were in my Advanced Fade Studies and Etheric Flows class!”  

Hearing her name from Emmrich’s mouth took her breath away. She had rather hoped he wouldn’t remember her from her scholar years. Calliope couldn’t deny the butterflies fluttering in her body as he remembered her, almost regressing to her 16 year old self, and she endeavoured to change the topic from herself as quickly as possible.  

“Yes, I... your class was most enlightening Emmrich, but I couldn’t help but hear you mention homesickness?”  

The Fourth time Emmrich says her name, it’s a revelation. 

Fighting on the beaches of Rivain always pissed Rook off. It was always too hot, and too sandy. She hated the sand in Rivain, it felt... so coarse compared to the finely milled sand that tracked through the Necropolis. Of course, the scenery of Rivain was stunning and the smell of the ocean air was refreshing, as long as the Antaam weren’t burning gaatlok in her general direction.   

Rook dove for the gaatlok-armed Antaam, pushing her body to flip and attack the hulking Qunari with her imbued daggers. Necromancy pulsing from her hands as she struck true. Pulling her weapons free she could hear Emmrich and Taash finish off the last of the Antaam soldiers who had ambushed them.   

“They just seem to be around every bloody corner here, don’t they?” she exclaimed, wiping her daggers on her bloodstained clothing.   

“Until we can get to the Dragon King,” Taash remarked. The team had tried to track down the Dragon King to no avail, however his poorly planned traps had to lead somewhere.   

“We’ll get to him soon enough Taash, then you can set him straight on Dragons having queens!” Rook stretched to pat Taash on their shoulder in consolidation. Suddenly a loud explosion pierced Rook’s ears, throwing her to the ground some distance away from where she stood. “Calliope!” Emmrich shouted over the ringing in her ears, she felt sand being kicked near her face as Emmrich’s familiar boots came into frame, and a distant squelching noise of an axe being buried into a body barely registered. “My darling are you alright?” Emmrich asked, sending his warming magic over her body to check for internal injuries.  

“I think I’m okay, can you help me up?” Emmrich slowly manoeuvred her to sit, taking stock further before helping Calliope to her feet. He gripped her waist tightly to keep her steady as she threatened to sway, waiting for Taash to make their way over. 

“Hey, Emmrich.”  

“Yes, Taash?” Emmrich was exasperated, whatever could Taash want at a time like this?  

“Why did you call Rook ‘Calliope’? She’s called Rook?”  

The Fifth and Sixth time Emmrich called her Calliope, she had a cold. 

Emmrich looked up from his desk to the sound of Manfred hissing and raising his tray, proud of his assortment of tea, soup and some bread. “Ah Manfred, have you prepared this for dear Rook?” A pleased hiss resonated through Manfred's skull, Emmrich straightened the papers on the desk and rose from his chair, peering through the windows above to where the sun was coming through the windows. “It is about time to give her another tonic. Thank you, Manfred, I can take this next door.”  

Emmrich gently knocked on Rooks’s door, hearing soft snores from behind, he quietly pushed open the door and rounded the middle of the room to the table closest to the sofa. The dim light from candles and the fade fish illuminating his path. Placing the tray down, he crouched down near Rook’s face, and gently rocked her, “Rook? My darling, it’s time to wake up.”  

A grumbling “Mmph” was the reply he received. “Calliope, I brought you some soup.” He drawled elongating her name, much like himself, he knew the food would rouse her from drowsiness. She was often second to the kitchen when food was served, her childhood in the Necropolis meant she often had to go without, and why she often picked up odd jobs around Nevarra City to purchase items that weren’t second or third hand.  

Calliope’s eyes slowly opened, blinking, she noticed even with her lying down and Emmrich crouching he towered over her. As she shuffled to extricate herself from the blanket and sit up there was a thud of a book dropping to the floor. On instinct Calliope reached for it, however Emmrich’s longer reach picked it up far swifter than her lethargic body could match.  The book read ‘The Obverse of Reality: Studies of the Fade in the Waking World.’ A soft gasp left Emmrich as he noticed the book as one of his very own works, Calliope’s copy was too well-thumbed and too battered to be from his own study in the Lighthouse. Calliope noticed his recognition of the title, her face becoming hotter despite the chill that cloaked her body after removing the blanket. “You never told me you have read any of my works, my dear.”   

A shyness crept over Calliope, her eyes darting away from Emmrich’s face as she replied, the congestion in her nose lending her voice a nasal tone, “Well, I was in this class, I had to get your book, it’s even a first edition!”  

“It must have been sixteen years since I published this –” Emrich mused,” I'm sure I’ve published much more recent findings on the Fade, especially since it started to thin.”  

“I like it, I can hear your voice as I read it.” Calliope started, her voice slowly getting quieter as she admitted, “It’s um – comforting, to read a book I know so well.” Emmrich rose from his crouch, placing a gentle kiss on Calliope’s forehead and moving to sit next to her on the sofa. His earthy scent relaxed Calliope instantly. “Well, how about I read some passages aloud as you eat my dear, I also brought another tonic, it should keep your symptoms at bay and allow you to rest.” Said Emmrich, motioning to the tray on the side table.  

Emmrich’s voice was gentle as he read, often musing on additions he would make to the text, or discussing Calliope’s scrawled annotations in the margins. Making note that she used tiny skull shapes to punctuate her ‘i’s’ and exclamation marks. After Calliope ate, she leaned back against the sofa, her head resting on Emmrich’s arm as he continued reading. Emmrich turned the page to the next chapter and Calliope stiffened as she saw the doodle on the page, Emmrich let out a deep chuckle, noting the words written in a loosely drawn doodle of an anatomical heart. Calliope swore she could almost feel every blood vessel in her face expanding, a beet-red flush falling over her face as she scrambled to close the book. Emmrich moved to hold the book far out of her reach, a devious glint in his eye as he drawled “Calliope Volkarin, eh?”   

The Seventh time Emmrich said her name it was to give a gift. 

“My dear, please sit still or else I shan’t be able to give this gift properly.” Emmrich teased. Of course, he’d give her the present no matter what. But after finally acquiring a fitting token of his affection, his love, he wanted to give it to Rook exactly as he imagined.   

Stepping behind her perched on his desk, he opened the soft bag that contained her gift, he peered around to ensure her eyes were tightly shut, letting out an exhale of satisfaction Emmrich moved Rook’s hair to the side, holding it tightly in his hands he twisted her hair up and out of the way, a wry smile on his lips as he pulled lightly on the bundle. Rook let out a gentle hiss as heat pooled in between her legs. “If you could please hold your hair?”   

Satisfied, Emmrich proceeded to undo the clasp of the necklace, threading it around Rook’s neck, his fingers ghosting over her skin as he did so. After it was joined, Emmrich’s fingers lightly traced the chain over her clavicle, placing tender kisses on the back of Rook’s neck. Rook felt the cool weight of the necklace on her sternum, reaching up to feel the pendant, gasping as she raised it into her view. Finely detailed skeletal hands grasped a large garnet, it was hard to tell upside down but it almost looked like the stone was vaguely heart-shaped. “Emmrich, this is far too much! I can’t imagine what it must have cost!” Emmrich paused his careful mapping of Rook’s neck with his lips and moved closer to her ear, his light stubble scratching lightly at Rook’s skin.  

“I saw this when we were back in Nevarra and I couldn’t resist picturing how it would look around your neck, Calliope.” Added to the ministrations on her neck, he knew the reaction she had to Emmrich saying her real name, how a delicious red painted her cheeks and chest, creating the perfect trail for Emmrich’s fingers to follow. Calliope’s squirms brought herself closer to Emmrich, her back hitting his chest as he gently grasped Calliope’s neck with one hand, his other tracing the long line of her tattoo down towards her soft lower stomach. His cool rings icy against her heat.  

“Emmrich” she gasped, breath hitching, reaching for the back of his neck, bringing him closer, and kissing him deeply. Soft moans emanated from the both of them, Calliope broke away inhaling trying to extricate herself from Emmrich’s grasp, but he tugged gently, coaxing her back to her original position. “Calliope, this is about you, my love.” 

The eighth time, wasn’t really the eighth time. By then Elgar’nan had been dead for nearly a year. Emmrich and Calliope had returned to the Necropolis, Emmrich to his shaping of young minds, Calliope to the library, her younger self’s sacred sanctuary. On occasion they would jointly lecture on what they discovered during their time fighting against the Evanuris, careful to still keep some secrets. Manfred was flourishing under the tutelage of the Mourn Watch, his curiosity leading to amusing stories over dinner.  

On this particular evening, Manfred had delivered a sealed note to Calliope, asking for her to arrive in the Memorial Gardens when the dinner bell tolls. 

The flowers in the Memorial Gardens seemed to burst with fragrance as Calliope entered. A bouquet of lilacs stood on the table where Calliope and Emmrich had their first real date when they first started to truly get to know each other. A wisp danced across her vision guiding her past the ledge where a small table was set, taking Calliope back to when they first visited the Memorial Gardens together for the mourning rites, eventually the wisp paused at the steps that led towards the grave covered in snaking Shroud’s Kiss. Calliope thanked the wisp and continued up the steps, and onto the pathway which was littered in a cacophony of flower petals, lilac and yellow beckoning towards the figure at their juncture. Emmrich closed the gap, eager to reach his beloved. “Thank you for coming my darling, I admit it is poor manners on my part for such short notice,” he said entwining his hands with Calliope’s. “Emmrich this is quite the surprise, what’s the occasion?” 

“Well my love, I -.” Emmrich started, clearing his throat. “Calliope Ingellvar, my dearest Rook. Would you be so mad as to agree to a lifetime with a besotted fool of a professor, and do me the honour of becoming Calliope Volkarin?” 

And that was probably the most significant time Emmrich said Calliope’s name. 

[queenmuzz]

WIP WEDNESDAY (30 minutes too late)

Tagged by the talented @paramortality !

Probably going to publish this today, but here we go! ‘A Marriage of Convenience’

"My condolences," he offered lamely. "I wish there was a way that I could help-"

"There is," Myrna interrupted him, murmuring thanks to Manfred for the tea that he set down before her. "The issue is that I wish I did not have to ask this of you, but we are out of options." She waited until the skeleton had left the room and had politely closed the door. (The fact Manfred, a spirit of Curiosity, was beginning to understand the concept of privacy warmed Emmrich's heart). After she was certain he could not hear their conversation she continued. "Professor, you have connections that transcend the High Council."

"The Lich Lords."

"Yes."

He sat back in his chair, frowning. While it was true that in a few short years he would attempt to join their ranks, (he ought to have done it years ago, but he kept finding excuses to not take that final step), and while the Lords would probably disapprove of a young woman being executed for, to them, a minor infraction in the grand scheme of things, he knew they were loath to get involved into the matters of mortals. They would occasionally mingle with people of the Necropolis, of Nevarra, and sometimes even the wider world, glamoured of course, as to not distance themselves from the mortals they were expected to protect. But never interfere.

"I'm not sure what you think that I could help you with."

"Watcher Ingellvar has no one save myself and Vorgoth to advocate for her, and we are both bound by the High Council's decision. But if she had a person with powerful connections…" she sighed, and looked at her still untouched cup. "What I am saying, Professor… I am requesting that you marry her."

[opulentshits]

DA:TV - Pokémon edition

Inspired by @velvet-apricots , here’s my take on the Veilguard companions (+ my MW!Rook) Pokémon lineup.

Plus a little background info.

Taash

Garchomp

Gyarados: “Had Bubba since she was a magikarp, mom got her because she wanted me to learn about patience and responsibility. People like to say she’s no dragon, but I think she’s one for sure.”

Magcargo: “Mags is a little shy, don’t mess with him.”

Slaking

Camerupt

Davrin

Scrafty

Hariyama

Metacross

Shiny Growlithe: “This is Assan, the grey wardens have been breeding shiny Growlithes for generations. He is one of the 12 left in the world. We don’t know if there are more shiny growlithes like Assan and his siblings out there.”

Quilava: “Maika will burn any darkspawn in sight. She’s vicious and keeps Assan on his toes.”

Bellara

Luxray: “Lux was Cyrian’s but he started following me after he passed away. It’s great that Lux keeps me company. I can always feel Cyrain’s presence around Lux.”

Ampharos

Pikachu

Togedemaru: “I found Toad near some ruins in the forest! Cute isn’t she? Oh don’t touch her belly, she will zap you really hard.”

Tinkaton

Lucanis

Scizor

Greninja: “Matteo has been with me since I was a child, he’s been training with me all my life. Spite upsets him quite a bit but I think we are making some progress.”

Gallade

Gallarian Farfetch’d: “His name is Poro, why does an assassin have a bird holding a leek for a Pokémon? Why not? He has a good eye for produce and our targets.”

Medicham

Neve

Hatterene

Eiscue

Weavile: “Hal called about a Weavile causing some trouble, turns out all Ted wanted was some fish. He makes a pretty good partner.”

Froslass

Alolan Ninetails: “I rescued Princess from poachers who were trying to sell her off to the Venatori. Alolan Vulpixes are prized for their white coat. Safe to say I could not bear to part with her ever since. Aren’t you my little princess, yes you are!”

Emmrich

Sylveon: “Ribbons belonged to my mother, he evolved after we were reunited on my parents’ first death anniversary. I had to beg Vorgoth to let me take him.”

Shiny Sableeye: “This is Manfred. I found him scourging through my bag at camp during an expedition in the deeper parts of the necropolis. Turns out he was interested in the gemstone attached to the artifact we were retrieving. Curious little fella this one!”

Dusclops

Mismagius

Chandelure

Harding

Probopass

Cradily

Serperior

Butterfree: “I used to be afraid of bugs, but Puffs really helped me work out my fears.”

Paldean Clodsire: “I found Butters in a swamp near Ma’s home! There were these woopers I used to secretly feed leftovers to and one day Butter’s decided to come home with me! He’s a lot bigger now, but he’s still lil old Butters to me.”

Rook (Lenore Ingellvar)

Gengar: “Hans has been with me since he was ghastly. The other watchers said they found him hovering around me as a baby. He’s harmless. For most part.”

Cubone which evolved into Alolan marowak in Rivain: “Ghost was found next to a couple of dead Charizards out in Cumberland when I was there on a haunting investigation. It took him 4 months to begin trusting me, but we have been close ever since. Ghost really likes the beach and has been begging to go ever since we went to Rivain and I never expected him to evolve! Our journey really has brought us even closer.”

Dragapault

Mawile

Lucario

Fun fact:

Ghost did not like Emmrich at the beginning. He would cockblock Emmrich at any given moment, slapping down his bone near Emmrich’s foot whenever he stepped too close to Lenore. Ghost warmed up when Emmrich fixed his favourite bone stick after a particularly bad run in with the Venatori.

Hans knew Emmrich before Lenore did as Hans loved to fly around the Necropolis playing tricks on other Watchers. Emmrich used to bribe Hans with sugar cubes.

[possessiveandobsessive]

The Spirit of Determination- Epilogue

The battle is over, the Veilguard was victorious. Now Rook has time to let herself live a life, and a man to live it alongside. He is her home and she is his. A small series of Rookanis moments set after the end of the main storyline of Veilguard.

This is Part One of a two-part epilogue! This part is Rookanis focused, while the next part will include everyone (and obviously still Rookanis). Enjoy!

Epilogue Part 1: So This is Love

Rook was humming lightly as she absentmindedly traced random symbols and shapes onto Lucanis’s bare chest. The two were laying on the infirmary bed that now lived in her room at the Lighthouse, still recovering both mentally and physically from the fight with Elgar’nan only a couple days previously. After the exhausting confrontation, the whole team had returned to the Lighthouse, where nearly all of them proceeded to sleep for 12 hours. It was only then that they ate dinner together and celebrated their victory, and mourned the loss of the missing member of the Veilguard together. It was cathartic, and Rook realized just how much her companions had become her family in such a short span of time. 

As of now, they were all still residing in the Lighthouse. Emmerich and Davrin however, already had plans to leave in a few days' time. Emmerich wished to return the the Necropolis to help in the funeral rites for the Mourn Watchers who had fallen in battle that night in Minrathous, and Vorgoth had requested his help with several other miscellaneous tasks, the descriptions of which Rook had completely failed to comprehend when Emmerich was explaining to her. She had been supportive regardless, after all, their mission was complete, and she was not his or any of their keepers. 

When she had said as much to Emmerich, he had smiled at her before saying, “Well my dear I suppose you’re right, but I have gotten used to following your lead. It feels odd to be leaving with no plans to return as a group.”

He had seemed emotional about the thought, and Rook had placed a hand on his shoulder before reassuring the older man, “We will all be together again at some point Emmerich, I’m not letting any of you disappear that easily, not after all we’ve been through.” 

Emmerich had brightened at that. “Yes! Splendid Rook! I’d love to invite everyone to have tea in the Memorial Gardens when we’ve all the time. I think it would be a wonderful backdrop to visit with friends.”

Rook had to fight back a snicker at the idea of Taash holding a teacup in the Memorial Gardens at the Necropolis. “I’m sure that will be lovely Emmerich.” Rook smiled at him, “I will definitely come to visit when I can, Manfred will miss me too much otherwise.”

Emmerich chuckled, “Oh yes, he’s already been upset as I’ve been packing. He doesn’t want to leave any of you behind. Change is still not easy for him, poor thing.” Emmerich seemed to perk up and looked at Rook with an excited expression, “Oh! And do invite me to the wedding, Rook! I wouldn’t miss you marrying Lucanis for anything!”

Rook sputtered and fell into a fit of coughing at THAT unexpected statement. Emmerich seemed concerned and patted her back lightly as she got control of her breathing back. “That isn’t- We haven’t- I don’t-” 

Emmerich waved off her many broken attempts at a response, “Oh don’t worry dear, Lucanis doesn’t seem like he would be keen on a huge ceremony, I’m sure you will be fine.”

Rook simply stared at him open-mouthed as he gave her shoulder a pat and bid her farewell as he returned to his packing as if he didn’t just send her into a confused fit. Classic Emmerich.

Davrin had told her that he and Assan were heading to meet with Evka and Antoine in Lavendel. Apparently, they had some pretty urgent news and wanted Davrin’s help. They had also inquired whether or not Rook was coming back, and when Davrin relayed the question to her, Rook had a tough decision to make. She truly didn’t have any desire to return to the Grey Wardens at this point, though she would miss the nights spent around a fire with Evka and Antoine. Rook simply couldn’t see a future within the Order for herself anymore. Once, she had wanted nothing more than to be like the Hero of Ferelden, now, she was exhausted and wanted to get away from the darkness. 

When Rook had said as much to Davrin, she was surprised at his reaction. He had laughed and told her he was glad she wouldn’t be returning, which had deeply offended her before he explained. 

“Rook, you’ve earned a break. You of all people deserve to live free of darkspawn and the blight for a while, and I don’t want to see you back in Lavendel, coming back to a tent every day covered in darkspawn blood. You answered when duty called, so now you need to rest, before the world needs you again.”

The elf had laughed as he said the last part, and only laughed harder when he saw her grimace in response. 

“Oh no.” Rook shook her head as she spoke, “No more world saving for me, I took my turn. It’s someone else’s problem next time some evil fuck decides they want to ruin the world.”

“As if you could say no when people’s lives are on the line.” Davrin smirked at her as she simply rolled her eyes in response. “People who become Grey Wardens by choice are usually not ones to shrink from conflict, especially when innocent people are getting hurt.”

Davrin then sobered again, looking at Rook seriously, “I mean it though, go live your life Rook. You don’t owe the order anything. Plus,” He shot her a sidelong glance and a grin, “I don’t think Lucanis is interested in becoming a Grey Warden.”

Rook flushed and shoved his shoulder. Then, she furrowed her brows and turned to look at him again. “What about Assan? His brothers and sisters are living in Arlathan now, I figured you two would go and stay there. I’m sure Eldrin could use the help wrangling twelve griffons.”

“That’s the plan, eventually.” Davrin said, smiling at the thought before turning back to her, “But Evka said they have news, and they could use my help. So Assan and I will go there first and see what they need.”

“I’m glad you’re moving on too, Davrin.” Rook smiled at her friend, “You deserve a life too.” She had hugged him after that, promising to visit him in Arlathan once he and Assan were settled there.

Neither Neve or Bellara had said anything about their plans for leaving yet, but given how Neve had desperately sprinted towards Bellara after the battle before pulling the shocked woman into a passionate kiss, Rook assumed they were probably going somewhere together. 

Taash hadn’t given any indication that they had a plan either, but Rook had elected to give them some space for a bit and let them come to her when they were ready.

Rook was pulled from her reverie when Lucanis’s hand moved to rest on top of her own that had been tracing his skin. Looking up, Rook’s cheeks heated. Lucanis was looking at her with a raised brow and a half smirk tugging at the side of his mouth, which was the exact look she received when she had been so spaced out she didn’t hear him speaking to her. 

“Are you with me, Rook?” Lucanis asked in a teasing tone once she had returned to the present moment. He was always patient when she “disappeared” into her mind. It happened often these days; she frequently found herself caught up in a thought or memory, and the rest of the world simply ceased to exist when this happened.

“Yes…” Rook responded sheepishly, feeling guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to zone out, were you trying to get my attention long?”

“No.” He responded simply, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I just asked you a question and when you didn’t respond, I knew you were gone.” At her guilty look, he chuckled and gently grabbed her chin, coaxing her to look at him. “Rook, it doesn’t bother me, you don’t have to feel bad.” Lucanis smiled at her before adding, “I am well aware you’re not ignoring me on purpose, especially because you normally can’t keep your eyes off of me.”

Rook grinned and rolled her eyes, all traces of her anxiety gone now. “Well yeah, you are incredibly attractive. It’s not my fault, I’m only a woman.”

Lucanis was the one to roll his eyes at her this time, but he pulled her to him and kissed her gently. “I love you, Rook. I cannot imagine being anywhere but at your side, which brings me back to my question that you did not actually hear before.” 

Rook’s cheeks went pink again, both at the confession and at the fact that she had completely missed what seemed to be a relatively important question to Lucanis.

“Would you- I mean, what are your plans now?” Lucanis stumbled on the first few words, cursing himself for giving his nerves away immediately. He had been doing so well before.

Rook was surprised at Lucanis’s sudden shyness as he asked the question. He had cut his eyes away from her own after he began speaking which was odd. Lucanis valued eye contact with her normally. Then she digested what he had asked and understood. Rook mentally face-palmed for not having established her position sooner, but to her credit, everything over the last several weeks had happened very quickly. 

She waited for Lucanis to meet her eyes again before she answered. “Luca,” Rook began, smiling at his blush. The nickname was new, and she was pretty sure that he loved it even more than she did. “My only plans are going where you go. I figure you’ll want to return to Treviso soon, what with you being The First Talon and all. Pretty sure your fellow Crows are itching to have you back home.”

Lucanis stared at Rook with wide eyes and seemed to be speechless for a moment. Told you! Spite shouted from within his mind, making him flinch slightly. Rook stays with Lucanis and Spite, would not leave us! Belong with Rook! Okay, okay, Lucanis thought, trying to calm Spite down. Yes, you were right, please stop yelling. It gives me headaches, remember? Spite went quiet and Lucanis could feel his chagrin. …Sorry. Forgot. Did not mean to hurt Lucanis… It’s okay, Lucanis fought a smile at how far the spirit had come in understanding him. I know you didn’t mean it, just relax while I talk to Rook.

When Lucanis refocused his eyes, he realized Rook was watching him with a hand covering her mouth and eyes full of laughter. “What?” He asked, confused at her expression. “What is it?”

Rook gave him his favorite smile, the one that made butterflies erupt in his stomach. “I have been able to tell when you’re talking to Spite for a long time, but now I can tell when he’s yelling at you.” Rook giggled before continuing, “You get this scrunched look on your face and your lips get all pursed, and then your face just slowly relaxes after he calms down. It’s just funny how I can see you interacting, that’s all.” 

Lucanis snorted, of course Rook was focused on the weird thing his face was doing and not on his utter shock at her previous statement. He shook his head at her before returning to her answer to his question. “So… you said, you plan on coming with me? To Treviso?” He paused, “I just wondered… I wasn’t sure if you’d want to go back to the Grey Wardens. I mean, that was your life before this, right? Do you not wish to return?”

Rook just shook her head and grabbed his hand to begin massaging his palm as she spoke. “No, I don’t plan on going back. To be honest, I have no desire to return. I became a Grey Warden when I was 19 because I wanted to feel like I was serving a greater purpose. Plus, I had always been a relatively skilled fighter.”

Lucanis watched her with rapt attention as she spoke, she almost never referenced anything about her past beyond meeting Varric.

“But… after a few years, I started to become pretty disillusioned with the order. It was so much more political than I expected, then it should be. So after the incident at the village, when I joined Varric, I wasn’t really ever sure I’d go back. And now that this is over, now that I’ve killed enough darkspawn to last a lifetime, I will absolutely not be going back. I already talked to Davrin about it.”

Lucanis simply stared at Rook in shock. “You already… Is that allowed? I thought Grey Wardens were bound for life?”

Rook busted out laughing at that. “Lucanis,” Rook collected herself, the last few laughs trailing off, “The order doesn’t even officially have a leader up north at the moment. Evka is running the show for now. She’s not going to drag me back, and I’m pretty sure the Warden Commander isn’t going to show up at my door and force me to come back.”

Lucanis was still somewhat reeling at this point. Sure, he had been pretty certain that they would work something out in order to stay together, in fact, he had considered leaving his title behind and following her if that’s what it took. But, he had not been prepared for her to simply leave the wardens and join him in his home city. His heart swelled for the woman in front of him, and he had to fight to hold onto his composure. 

Lucanis was not entirely successful in this endeavor, and a huge smile made its way across his face. “You are going to come home with me, to Treviso.” His voice held a note of wonder, and he suddenly pulled her tightly to his chest in a crushing hug. Rook made a squeaking sound that evolved into laughter at his reaction. Lucanis didn’t even care if he was being ridiculous anymore, he simply held a laughing Rook to his chest as he listed off the things he would take her to do when they returned to Treviso. He’d take her back to Cafe Pietra, he would introduce her to his favorite stray cats around the city, take her to his favorite rooftop spot to look out over the city, and introduce her to his favorite restaurant for dinner. 

Lucanis continued his list to add taking Rook on a private gondola ride, but he stopped when she went still in his lap. “What is it?” Lucanis pulled away to look at her as he asked, immediately concerned.

“Well I- It’s just…” Rook desperately tried to come up with an excuse to play her reaction off, but gave up when she met his eyes. They were so full of warmth and love, and she realized that there was no reason to lie to him about it, especially if she was going to be with him in Treviso of all places. “I can’t swim…” Rook admitted in a small voice, looking down at her hands on her lap. “I never learned, and when I was 14 I almost drowned in a river near where my clan was staying. It was running fast because of all the snow melt, and I slid off a rock and fell in. If my friend hadn’t been there to get help, I would've died. Ever since, I just… avoid water when I can.”

Lucanis felt his mouth fall open at Rook’s admission, before quickly closing it when he realized how hard this was for her to admit to him. She’d never said a single word about it, to anyone as far as he was aware, the entire time they’d traveled together. Looking back, she had always seemed off when they were near bodies of water, and always went silent when they had to cross rivers and streams in Arlathan or the canals in Treviso. Then it really hit him, her room was surrounded by a fish tank that made it appear underwater.

“How have you been sleeping here??” It probably wasn’t the best initial reaction to Rook telling him about her fear, but he couldn’t help but blurt the question. Wasn’t this akin to torture or something?

“Hah… It took a few weeks for me to really be able to sleep a full night.” Rook rubbed the back of her neck. “I used a lot of sleeping potions for the first month or so. But it got easier.”

Lucanis was looking at her like she was crazy. “You… why not just move? Why stay here?” He couldn’t fathom this new information, knowing she was afraid of water… Then it hit him. Before Rook could even answer his questions, he said in a hushed voice, “The Ossuary…” Lucanis directed his full attention to her eyes, which had widened a bit at the intensity in his voice. “How… How did you even manage to get there? It was a lengthy boat ride in a tiny boat, and then you had to go under water! And stay there the entire time it took to get me out!”

Rook sighed. “It was awful, I won’t lie. I wanted to throw up the entire boat ride there and back. Once we were in, I was distracted with killing a bunch of Venatori so that helped a lot. And then I-” She broke off and flushed, “And then I was distracted by you so it was easier after we freed you or, I guess you kind of freed yourself.”

“Rook…” Lucanis whispered her name, looking at her incredulously. “I, you are the most incredible person I’ve ever met. To be so afraid and still push through, the whole time pretending you aren’t afraid,” He shook his head in wonder, his eyes never leaving her, “I am so lucky.”

“Lucanis…” Rook looked incredibly embarrassed. “It’s not that big of a deal. You can’t really be afraid of water and still live as a Warden or lead a team like this one, so I just had to adjust. That’s it.”

“But-” Lucanis stopped himself and just smiled at her. “Okay. Fine, it’s only kind of impressive. Happy?” Rook responded by giving him a look, and he chuckled. “So, how about this: I teach you to swim. There’s plenty of places in Treviso that are good to learn in, I can take you to where I learned and teach you.”

Rook went pale. “Uh…” She began to form some kind of excuse when Lucanis stopped her.

“Rook, if you’re going to live in Treviso, which is filled with canals and surrounded by water on two sides, you should know how to swim. We won’t do too much too fast, we can start with just getting you used to the water. I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Rook still looked apprehensive, but slowly nodded her head. “O..kay, you can teach me.”

Lucanis looked pleased. “Thank you, Nyra. I know it's frightening, but I would hate you going anywhere in Treviso near deep water, knowing you can’t swim. You don’t have the best luck.”

Rook blew air out of her nose at that. “Understatement.” She muttered under her breath. Then she looked back up at Lucanis, “Speaking of going home to Treviso, when did you want to go back? Also, were you planning on just returning to the mansion?” This last statement was spoken with an edge to it, and she prayed Lucanis wouldn’t catch it. Of course, he did.

“I am ready to return whenever you are. If you’re ready to go, then we can return in a couple days after I write Teia, Viago, and Caterina. As for returning to the mansion…” Lucanis raised a brow as he studied her face, “Do you not want to live there? We can-”

“No!” Rook interrupted. “It’s not that I don’t want to live there, it’s just… Caterina also lives there. And she doesn’t know about me, and most likely wasn’t expecting someone like me to be the one you bring home. So I just worry, I don’t want things to be weird and I don’t want to start a fight between you and her and-”

It was Lucanis’s turn to cut her off. “Slow down Nyra, take a breath.” Rook stopped and did as instructed. “Good, now, first of all, Caterina will move to the guest house in the back. That has been the plan since I was young. When I was old enough to take over and had my own partner and family, she would move out of the main house. Secondly, I’m not sure Caterina would have a leg to stand on in terms of rejecting you, but even if she didn’t approve, it wouldn’t matter. She doesn’t make my decisions for me, and if she doesn’t like you, then she is not someone I want to spend my time with, blood or no.”

Rook looked relieved and sagged into Lucanis’s warm chest. “Oh good. Then I’m ready to go home with you as soon as possible. I really do hate this room.”

Lucanis threw his head back with a bark of laughter and fell back against the bed so that they were laying down once again. “Perfect, I will write to them later. Right now, I’m busy.” Rook felt her body heat and let herself melt into his kiss. Moving to his mansion in Treviso was definitely looking more and more appealing. 

************************************************************************

Two Months Later:

Rook regretted agreeing to swimming lessons as soon as Lucanis brought her to the small pond on the Dellamorte property where he had learned to swim as a child. Just looking at the body of water and knowing she was going to have to get in was making her feel ill.

“Why do I need to learn how to swim again? I have made it 27 years so far without and have been fine, very successful actually. I saved Thedas not knowing how to swim, so I’m probably good. Let’s just head back inside and we can-”

“Ah ah ah,” Lucanis cut her off as he pulled his loose-fitting tunic over his head. “You promised, remember? I’m pretty sure promising me anything is essentially the same as making a deal with a demon, so you’re locked in now, Nyra.”

“Yes!” Spite agreed, hissing out the words from Lucanis’s mouth before curling his lips into a smirk, “Rook promised! Cannot. Break her promise to us!”

“Fine, fine, okay.” Nyra agreed warily, still eyeing the pond with distaste, “A promise is a promise.” She gave Lucanis a sidelong glance, adding, “You’d better not let me drown, I’ll haunt you from the afterlife.”

Lucanis chuckled at the comment as Nyra finally began stripping her own clothes off. As soon as they were both down to their undergarments, Lucanis closed the distance between them and pulled Nyra towards the pond by her hand. She resisted weakly for a moment before accepting her fate when they arrived at the edge of the pond.

“Okay,” Lucanis began, “We’re just going to work on getting in the water, floating, and keeping your head above the surface today. Nothing crazy, and I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

“We will not. Let anything bad happen to Rook. We keep safe, Lucanis and Spite are good swimmers.” Spite added, the purple light in Lucanis’s eyes flashing as he pushed his way to the surface to speak before fading back to their warm brown color.

Nyra blew an anxious breath out in a huff, before nodding. Lucanis went first, pulling her gently behind him as he waded deeper into the pond. Nyra’s legs trembled a bit as she followed behind the assassin. The water crept further up with each step, and her anxiety grew with it. 

Get it together, she scolded herself, it’s water. Even the kids here can swim, you need to calm down. It was easier said than done though, and once the water reached her waist, Nyra stopped suddenly. Lucanis paused when he felt the sudden resistance and turned to look at the woman behind him. His eyes softened when he saw Nyra was standing completely still and stiff, with her eyes closed as she took deep breaths in and out in an attempt to relax.

Lucanis then took several steps back until he was standing right next to her, gently tracing his hand up and down her spine. He watched as her left eye cracked open slightly to see what he was doing, and was relieved when she seemed to relax at his proximity.

“Would it help if I walked the rest of the way next to you?” Lucanis’s voice was genuine and soft, and he fought back a smile at the way Nyra’s freckled cheeks pinkened in response.

“Uh… yeah, that- that would help I think.” Nyra stuttered out a response lamely. Gods, I’m so hopeless, she thought, cringing internally. Why is this so hard??? I’ve literally killed a god, and I can’t walk into a pond?

Lucanis pulled her out of her self-deprecating thoughts with a light squeeze to her waist after he had wrapped an arm around her back to help guide her forward.

“Get out of your head, Nyra. Just follow me and try not to focus so much on the water, I promise I’ve got you.”

Squaring her shoulders, Nyra gave him a nod and the two began moving deeper into the pond again. She was doing well, and was excited at her progress. Nyra turned to grin at Lucanis proudly, and opened her mouth to share her giddiness. Just as she turned her head to the side, her foot hit a slick patch of mud and got stuck under a small rock. She found herself suddenly falling backward into the water with a startled gasp.

As her head dipped below the surface, Nyra kicked her legs and sputtered. Her eyes burned and she closed them tightly, trying to fight back her panic. Just as soon as she had gone under however, there were strong arms hooked under her armpits, hauling her back above the water.

Nyra’s head broke the surface and she coughed as water dripped down her face from her bangs that were now plastered to her forehead. “Fuck!” Nyra said breathlessly as she re-oriented herself with her surroundings. Lucanis was looking at her with wide eyes and an anxious expression.

“Are you alright?” He looked her over and brushed her soaked fringe out of her eyes as she coughed lightly again. “I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you it gets slippery-”

Nyra cut him off and rendered him speechless as she began laughing. Her laugh rang through the empty space of the large property, and Lucanis grew concerned that she was having some kind of break.

“Nyra..?” Lucanis spoke again in a concerned tone, running his eyes over her head in search of a wound that would cause something like this intense shift.

Nyra finally caught her breath again and looked at Lucanis, who was shocked to see a smile on her face. “I’m such a mess.” she laughed again, “Only I would find a way to somehow get my head underwater in water this shallow.” Then she beamed at him, “But I didn’t die or completely freak out. And you got me up right away. I’m actually feeling much better about this now.” 

Lucanis stared blankly at her for a few beats before he also burst into laughter. “I cannot believe all it took to ease your anxiety was falling into the water. I would have just shoved you in at the beginning had I known this would be the outcome.”

Nyra swatted his shoulder, “Hey, no shoving. I’m still nervous and I don’t really want to have that particular adrenaline rush again today.”

“Okay,” Lucanis agreed, still laughing lightly, “No shoving. Are you ready to go deeper and try floating?”

Nyra took a deep breath and met his eyes, her own smoldering with a new determination, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

************************************************************************

Four Months Later:

Nyra was humming to herself as she finished brushing her hair, also giving her outfit one last once over in the mirror. Lucanis was taking her to Cafe Pietra, and then he planned to take her on a gondola ride (now that she could at least keep herself from drowning).

She smirked as she recalled his puppy dog eyes when he had asked her to let him take her on the small boat. 

“Nyra.” he had tried for the third time that week, “You cannot live in Treviso and have never taken a gondola ride! That’s practically a crime!”

“Good thing I only hang out with criminals these days then.”

He had groaned at her response and she just gave him a mischievous grin. Finally, she elected to take pity on him. She really didn’t have any major issues with the gondola, but Lucanis had been so insistent and brought it up so often, Nyra couldn’t resist messing with him.

“Fine Lucanis,” Nyra began and Lucanis’s face lit up with excitement, “You can take me on a gondola ride.” 

A huge smile split Lucanis’s face and he kissed her. “I can’t wait, I know you’re going to love it. You just-”

“Wait,” Nyra held up a finger, “You have to take me out for coffee at Cafe Pietra first. That’s my condition.” 

Lucanis stared for a moment before grinning again, “You’ve got a deal, I’m glad you thought of that actually.”

So now, here she was several days later, getting ready to head to the Cafe to meet Lucanis. He was already there, having had to meet with a couple Talons about some changes he was imposing on the Crows. Apparently these Talons were the most frustrating, so he was going to need an extra coffee AND plenty of affection from her to recover. Not that he’d ever tell her that, stubborn as he was.

Nyra continued to hum lightly as she walked through the market. She had an old Grey Warden tavern song stuck in her head, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe she was missing Davrin, Antoine and Evka. She’d have to write them soon, Nyra decided.

She was so lost in thought, Nyra didn’t clock the man behind her who had begun to follow her after she passed the fruit stall. Nyra just wasn’t as vigilant as she used to be, the gods had been dead for over 6 months by now, and living with Lucanis in the Dellamorte manor meant she didn’t have to be too concerned about threats. The people of Treviso knew better than to fuck with the First Talon by trespassing.

This man however was drunk and stupid, so much so, he didn’t realize who the woman he had begun trailing behind was. He just saw a beautiful woman and decided he wanted her, a “classic scumbag” as Neve would say.

Nyra had reached the front of the cafe and began to head inside when an arm was suddenly barring the entrance in front of her. She frowned and turned to see who was denying her entry, and took a step back when she came face to face with the seedy looking man. He stank of shitty wine and body odor, and she could see how yellow his teeth were when he leered at her. 

“Heeeeey missss.” The drunk slurred, taking a step closer to Nyra, who took another step back to avoid being so close to him. She was getting a bad feeling, and discomfort began to stir in her stomach. This man did not have good intentions.

“You’re too pretty to be walking thessse streets alone.” The man continued, “Why don’t you let me walk you home, I’ll keep you niiiiice and safe.” 

Nyra flinched as he leaned forward. Mr. Disgusting took a deep breath, clearly trying to smell her as he moved his face towards her neck. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t knock him senseless, but she was too surprised and uncomfortable to think clearly or act. It was incredibly disturbing, and Nyra took another step back so that his face didn’t creep any closer to her neck.

“I’m not interested,” Nyra said in a cold tone, “I’m meeting someone here, and I don’t need assistance or want to go anywhere with you. Leave me alone, I won’t ask again.”

She fixed a glare on her face at the end of her sentence to solidify her point, but was horrified when the man simply laughed and shot his hand towards her, snatching her arm. His grip was painfully tight, and rage combined with a sick feeling coursed through her. Nyra made a fist with her right hand, about to punch this idiot’s lights out, when suddenly the man went flying and crashed into the brick wall, 20 feet behind him.

Mr. Disgusting groaned and cursed at her. “Dumb bitch, what do you-” 

He didn’t ever get to finish his sentence. Lucanis materialized in front of him so fast that Nyra’s eyes couldn’t track him, and broke the man’s neck in an instant, without hesitation. The square went silent for a moment, before a man, most certainly a Crow, left his spot against the wall and began dealing with the corpse. Lucanis said something quietly to the Crow, who nodded and whistled to a second man who came to help him take the body away. 

Conversation in the square resumed then, but Nyra couldn’t even hear it. Lucanis had turned to face her, his irises glowing a faint purple and smoldering with rage. They softened as soon as they met her own, and Lucanis was in front of her in a second. He began immediately running his hands lightly up and down her arms and looking for any sign of injury with a small frown and furrowed brow. Satisfied that she was unharmed, he muttered something in Antivan under his breath and pressed his forehead to hers. 

“I’m glad you’re safe. I was just sending the Talons away when I heard people start whispering about something happening just outside. Spite could tell you were there, and practically made my ears bleed with his shouting. I am grateful though, it made me move fast.” “No one. TOUCHES. Our Nyra. He made Nyra upset. Now he is dead. Wish we could kill him again.” Spite growled out the last part, causing Lucanis’s eyes to flash brightly and the air to take on a light electric charge, smelling of ozone.

“Easy Spite,” Lucanis murmured, “He’s dead. Calm down.” 

Nyra could practically hear Spite’s huff as the air around them settled. Then Lucanis finally addressed her directly.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he…” Lucanis trailed off, eyes growing murderous again.

“I’m fine!” Nyra said quickly, hand coming up to cup Lucanis’s face. “He was creepy, disgusting, and awful, but he didn’t touch me or hurt me. He just made my skin crawl and stomach churn, nothing a good cup of coffee won’t fix.”

Nyra forced a smile onto her face. She was fine, just still slightly shaken from the vile man’s sudden, forceful advances. She desperately didn’t want it to ruin their evening, especially since Lucanis was already tense from the meeting he had just finished.

“I will make you coffee at home then.” Lucanis’s look left no room for argument, not that Nyra even truly wanted to argue, she would much rather be home. “We have plenty of the coffee beans, and I’m sure you’re exhausted. We can take a gondola another day, they’re not going anywhere.”

Nyra nearly teared up at how well he knew her. She wanted to stay for him, but she preferred to go home after this experience.

“Okay.” Nyra said softly, smiling at the love of her life, “I like your idea better.”

“That’s because I’m a very smart man with fantastic ideas.” Lucanis smirked at her, before sweeping her up into his arms. 

Nyra let out a shocked squeak and her hands automatically found their way around Lucanis’s neck. “Lucanis!” she exclaimed in a whisper, “You don’t have to carry me, my legs aren’t broken!”

“I am aware I don’t have to carry you.” He said simply, and began to quickly weave his way back to their home. Lucanis’s tone said this wasn’t something that he was going to debate with her, so Nyra settled against him. His heart beat steadily under her ear, and she smiled. She may have had to fight gods themselves to get him, but finding Lucanis was the best thing that had ever happened to her. 

Feeling safe and grateful, Nyra drifted off. She had been tired before this whole confrontation, and she had barely been keeping her eyes open since Lucanis had picked her up.

Lucanis smiled down at the woman in his arms, watching her eyelids flutter and then stay closed. His own eyes faintly glowed, flecks of purple shining through his brown irises. “I love you more than anything in this world.” He whispered to her in Antivan, “I will never let anyone hurt you again.”

DATV Masterlist

[thequeenofthewinter]

OC Layers Tag Game

I was tagged by @draco-illius-noctis. Thanks, dear <3

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

Name: Iris Ingellvar

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair Style/Color: Dark brown, usually braided or pinned back from her face, but on occasion she does like to put it up. 

Height: 5'7"

Clothing Style: If we’re talking about battle, she’ll normally opt for something light with some reinforcements in the critical areas, but she prefers movement over anything heavy-plated. Iris is a true MW at heart and leans heavily into the gothic, dark academic aesthetic. She would live in complicated and ornate jackets, blouses with flow sleeves—the whole works. However, if she’s just hanging around and not going to leave the house, you can catch her in some casual tunics or pants, usually in dark jewel tones or black and white with gold accents.

Best Physical Feature(s): Her eyes

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears: Not being good enough, knowing where she belongs or if she belongs.

Guilty Pleasure: A good red wine as she curls up with a romantic novel. This girl wants to be swept off her feet. (Good news for her…)

Biggest Pet Peeve: Pedantic, over-inflated academics or people who can’t be bothered to lift a finger two inches to find something they need and expect you to do it for them. (No, she doesn’t get either of these from me at all.)

Ambition for the Future: To belong as a tenured professor with the Watch and to settle down with a certain someone…

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First Thoughts Waking Up: Is it time already?

What They Think About the Most: Emmrich. HA! I mean—her research. (Both. It’s both.)

What They Think About Before Bed: Depends on the day. It might be a cycle of thoughts about what happened—or picking at herself for things she could improve or did wrong. Or if someone is in the bed with her then—ahem. 

What They Think Their Best Quality Is: Iris would like to think that she is kind and very passionate about whatever she does. She is the first one to show up to help you move and will offer her time to you freely. Whatever she does, she does it to the very best of her ability—or at least tries to.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: Single, but I could see her trying a double date?

To be Loved or Respected: This girl just want to be loved.

Beauty or Brains: Brains because brains are sexy.

Dogs or Cats: Cats

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: Yes, but she would really rather prefer not to. If she knows it will only hurt someone, she will try to find kinder way to put things. Or if it is something which will make someone worry, especially about herself, she will try to avoid it—so I guess a bit of white lies or hiding select information.

Believe in Yourself: Sometimes, and she wishes she did a lot more of that, but the imposter syndrome in this one is strong. 

Believe in Love: Absolutely. She is a romantic at heart.

Want Someone: ;) Very much so. (It’s Emmrich in case you were wondering.)

LAYER SIX: HAVE YOU EVER?

Been on Stage: Yes, kind of? I headcanon that the MW has a choir and she sings in it. Also I guess you could count teaching as a stage in some contexts.

Done Drugs: No.

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: I wouldn’t say changed, but rather that she hid parts of herself away from people to try to fit in. (Which didn’t work out very well for her.)

LAYER SEVEN: WHAT’S THEIR…

Favourite colours: Deep purple.

Favourite animal: Cats.

Favourite book: If you ask Iris this question, she will panic because there are too many and how could she possibly pick? No, it’s not one of Emmrich’s. Don’t be ridiculous. However, there is a book which when she was a child she would sneak in and read (before Vorgoth would find her and kindly bring her back to Nevarra City), and it was her first introduction to necromancy and the relationship with the Fade. She didn’t really understand what it all meant, but she would keep going back to it. There was just something about dreaming versus reality which drew her attention—mostly because she was trying to find a way to slip away from what she lived as a child.

Favourite game: Iris is actually a fantastic Wicked Grace player. 

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

DOB: 9:18 Dragon 

How Old Will You Be: 34

Does Age Matter: In the sense that you keep learning and growing, yes. With time comes wisdom, but that doesn’t mean younger people don’t have any or that older people always know everything.

LAYER NINE: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: spending time with those whom I love.

I feel: everything, perhaps too deeply

I hide: what hurts me so that I don’t worry others.

I miss: slowing down to smell the flowers.

I wish: to be happy and to be loved—to find that one place where I belong.

Tagging: @caughtnyact @starfleetteddybear @redheadsramblings @sofiemystique @falesiastuff @guacamolleee @holdingontojupiter @aldisobey @paramortality and anyone else who wants to join. My brain is Swiss cheese.

[mal1n21]

Hand kisses

Emmrich absently taking Rook's hand and pressing a soft kiss over their knuckles whenever he feels like it.

The necromancer had grown so accustomed to the Lighthouse and the rest of its occupants [and their relationships] that he slips into the familiarity of it all.

He had his reservations as first, as would any senior necromancer displaying physical affection to someone who could be mistaken as his student. [Rook: I'm over thirthy five, Emmrich. At most i would be your partner investigator in a thesis, in fact, there's this one that -cue rambling about research initiated-]. They would dive into conversations over diverse topics.

He knew Ingellvar did it partly because it was something familiar, something they both shared and didn't make him think twice about this courting they were dancing around when the possible demise via Elven Gods, Archdemons and The Blight was knocking on their literal doorstep [The caretaker had informed them of the several hits that the crossroads had taken since the false deities made their attempt to come back, it wasn't good.]

After one too many close occasions in which he had to see Ingellvar struggle in battle, with enemies circling them like prey, receiving quite a beating at times [Rook: Im a mage, not a warrior, they come in too close and i have to sprint. No Taash, i don't need exercise, but thank you for the suggestion. What? No, don't encourage them.] Emmrich had enough of his own self imposed woes [As Johanna called them] and decided that if his days are going to be numbered from now on [And he wouldn't trade Mafred for anything, mind you] his affections shouldn't be caged by his unreasonable doubts.

Kissing Ingellvar in front of other people was a step too far for him, so he started with something small, something he knew his fellow necromancer loved.

A hand kiss. A soft gesture that carried more meaning than intended at times. [The first time he did it Ingellvar spent the whole day absently staring at things. Yes, they shared kisses before during their dates but there was something in the action of doing something like this in public that was thrilling, loving and fresh.] It was encouragement enough, so he keep at it.

And if he was turning into a besotted fool, so be it.

[Then there was that "incident" in the Necropolis when he forgot where they were and he did it.

That's probably when the many [many]rumours started. Myrna seemed curious but respectful so she wouldn't bring it up unless someone else did.

Vorgoth, thought, was another story.]

[paramortality]

OC Layers Game!

I was tagged by the stunning and sweet @thequeenofthewinter !! All hail Iris Ingellvar! ✨💙✨

I'm gonna play this a little differently, and answer as if my boi is being interviewed directly! I feel like I don't express his character through dialogue much. 👀 Don't feel obligated to also do it this way if you wanna play I'm just feeling like a silly little creachur tonight!

Laird "Rattles" Ingellvar

Photo Credit to the amazing @themournfulwatcher

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

Name: Laird Ingellvar (also dubbed Rattles by Varric Tethras and Artie by my fellow Watchers growing up.)

Eye Colour: They're green.

Hairstyle/Colour: I've had kind of a tall, bushy mohawk going on for the last eight or nine years? And this pretty awesome beard. I suppose you could say my hair is rusty? Coppery? I just tell people I'm a redhead, really. Not wrong.

Height: I tried to put 5'6" on my student paperwork. But Myrna says my hair doesn't count. Soooo... 5'4".

Clothing Style: I like to be comfortable. Open canvas shirts, sarouel pants... But I'm a stickler I guess for the usual Watcher outfits, Mortal Scrubs. Stick to what you know, right? I'm pretty partial to my death's disciple jacket, if I'm being honest. Even in warm weather!

Best Feature: My best feature? C'mon. It's gotta be the beard, right? Worked hard for it. Well, maybe my freckles too. People think they're cute.

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears: Oh god, that's a list! Being alone forever... Being a bad Watcher... Ghouls make my fucken' skin crawl. Large dogs is kind of an irrational one. It's why my face looks like this, though.

Guilty Pleasures: Every year I get a druffalo steak on my name day. Please don't tell Vorgoth.

Biggest Pet Peeve: Judgement or condescension that pretends to be "friendly advice." You're not being polite, you just don't got the balls to be rude and honest about it. Also people who chew loudly.

Ambition for the Future: Oh, tough. I didn't think I'd get this far! Uhm... I've always wanted to get married. I think I'd wanna travel more. Actually see the Anderfels. Maybe visit Kirkwall one day; see where Varric's from.

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First Thought Waking Up: Emmrich, for all that is holy, just let the sun come up first. Just once.

What They Think About Most: So, there's this really pretty professor... I think he likes me. [Emmrich, off camera: We're in a relationship , Laird...] Okay fine I also overthink everything I do in my entire life and if I'm doing something wrong.

What They Think Their Best Quality Is: What hasn't killed me has made me REALLY funny.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: Single dates. I get nervous in a crowd. Also I say things to Emmrich sometimes that would probably make our friends leave early.

To Be Loved or Respected: Both in a perfect world, but... I'll admit love feels pretty good.

Beauty or Brains: Oh trust me, I got a two for one special there! Brains matter way more, really. Something something, "can gild an outhouse in lyrium..." I can't remember how Varric said it.

Dogs or Cats: Cats. All the way. Did you know there's a Cat Cafe in Dock Town? Best. Place. Ever.

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: On a test? Yes. To make people happy? No. To my partner? Only if I'm trying to suprise him and he gets suspicious. To Solas? Absolutely did and would do it again.

Believe in Yourself: Not... Really? I mean I can get stuff done but I don't really think about it. I'm either capable or gonna die and then it's no longer my problem.

Believe in Love: You've... You've seen Emmrich, right? How couldn't I? I didn't when I was younger but... I can admit when I'm wrong.

Want Someone: I already have him.

LAYER SIX: HAVE YOU EVER?

Been On Stage: I did a symposium on Mortuary Pathology ONCE my second year in the Mourn Watch. I got so nervous that by the time I walked off stage I threw up on Vorgoth. Luckily it kinda just goes right through him. I think. Fuck I hope it did.

Done Drugs: I do like pot. Mostly to stop my tremors, though. Now Grave Mist is a different story. I did that once and was on the floor of Myrna's flat seeing the flavour of the letter 9 and lost an entire evening of time. Still not as bad as the gingerwort tea...

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: I wore a dress once. I think I was six? Worst eight minutes of my life.

LAYER SEVEN: WHAT’S THEIR…

Favourite Colour: I like dark, velvety greens. Pthalo green, moss green, sage. Black, plum, and burgundy get honourable mentions.

Favourite Animal: Halla. I could watch them for hours. Phoenixes too. I saw a lot of them around Lavendel. They're so cute!

Favourite Book: Hard in Hightown. What? It's a classic!

Favourite Game: I will play Vendetta like I was raised by Andarateia Cantori herself.

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

DOB: 27 Satinalia, 9:23 Dragon

How Old Will You Be: I'll be 30 soon. Nice round number... Kinda like me!

Does Age Matter: No matter how much Emmrich worries, I really don't think all that much about it.

LAYER NINE: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I Love: Emmrich. And Manfred. ... What? Did you think I was gonna have something deeper and more meaningful?

I Feel: like I need three bottles of a good Antivan port and my back blown out.

I Hide: my tremors, my anxiety, ...oh! And little trinkets in Emmrich's office for him to find. I gave him a little jade cat figurine for our anniversary and sometimes I move it around just to keep him guessing. [Emmrich: So it's YOU breaking the lock to my office!] Love you!

I Miss: my cousin, Kata. He's out doing fancy ambassador work for the Watch now, so I can't be too mad.

I Wish: I did more. During the last blight, I mean. I stopped it, but... I wonder sometimes how much more I could have saved...

Tagging for fun, no pressure! @sofiemystique @yappacadaver @deny-the-issue @basic-x-witch @theyearningghoul @holdingontojupiter @falesiastuff @jackmorrisonshoe and anyone else who wants to play! 💙

[spinfins]

What if Viago gives Manfred a snake for his lil family? And then the snake has babies 😁

“…well i’m pleased to see the progress that’s been made here.” Emmrich said, walking through Treviso with the Fifth Talon. It was good to see the city recovering from its devastating occupation. The streets were busier and cleaner, the people better fed and more at ease.

It was peaceful enough that he had accepted the Crow’s invitation to cafe Petra. They had spent an enjoyable hour or two discussing art collecting, and trading amusing anecdotes about their time training the younger members of their professions.

Viago made a satisfied noise as he surveyed the city. He glanced thoughtfully at Manfred, who had been on his best behavior at the cafe, and occupied himself by watching steam rising from the various pots and kettles.

“Perhaps your fledgling would enjoy looking at my reptiles while you speak with Rook and Teia? i understand he has begun a collection of his own?”

Emmrich sighed in a very practiced way. ‘Collection’ was not the word he would use for the amalgamation of fauna that Manfred had acquired…so far.

He was immensely proud of Manfred’s curiosity and devotion to his menagerie. The creatures received care beyond any reproach.

He was less pleased by the fact that an entire room in the Lighthouse had been created to house the sheer number and scope of them.

“Yes,” he said as Manfred clapped his hands and bounced in glee. “I think he would like that very much.”

Later, as they were preparing to leave, Rook turned to Emmrich.

“Manfred’s hissing more than usual. Can you hear it?”

Now that they mentioned it. He could. Manfred’s excited noises proceeded him. Emmrich could hear them long before his ward appeared around the corner.

Dread pooled in Emmrich’s stomach to mix with the resignation there, resulting in a nauseating churn.

Manfred was holding a box, and taking great care to hold it steady as he took measured steps.

Oh no. He cleared his throat. “Manfred, my dear, what is that you have?”

The green gems rotated at alarming speed.

Manfred hissed louder and offered the box up for Emmrich’s inspection.

The box hissed back.

With great reluctance, the necromancer reached out and lifted the lid. From within the dark depths of the box something spat at him, something that moved very fast and was very brightly colored.

He snapped the lid closed.

Manfred hissed again, not only in excitement, but in imitation.

“A little gift!” Viago said, materializing behind him and clapping him on the shoulder. “It is not often I part willingly with one of my snakes, but your Manfred showed such an affinity I could not say no. Consider it a mark of goodwill from the Crows.”

A personal gift that would be beyond rude to refuse. A mark of goodwill from the most notorious league of assassins in all of Thedas.

“How wonderful,” Emmrich managed. “Did you say thank you, Manfred?”

The wisp used his very best enunciation. “Thank you!”

Viago smiled, “you are very welcome, niño”

As Manfred hugged the box to his chest, Emmrich leaned close to Viago, “is it poisonous?”

Viago’s smile widened, “not for skeletons.”

———

One snake would have been enough. That would have been fine. Manfred proved to be very adept at handling the little creature, and often went about with her poisonously bright coils wrapped in and out of his ribs.

Fred, Harding, Vorgoth and all the other frogs/toads were uninterested in her, and endured her introduction stoically.

Assan behaved himself very well, and eyed her with caution.

Baby tried to eat her, and so endured a very stern lecture from Manfred. There was some speculation as to whether her poison would even effect the enormous lizard.

“What are you going to call her?” Lucanis asked from a very respectful distance as Manfred maneuvered her into her new terrarium.

“Spit!” Manfred declared as Bellara passed by a little too close, and the snake bared a set of dripping fangs at her.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Rook said as everyone nodded.

Yes. One snake would have been enough.

But then Emmrich shot awake in the dark hours of the night to Manfred anxious hissing and shaking.

“What is it?” He tried to ask as the wisp dragged him from the cozy bed—where Rook remained undisturbed—into the menagerie room.

Manfred did not form any coherent words, or let up hissing until he had towed Emmrich all the way to the front of Spit’s enclosure.

He rubbed his eyes once, and then rubbed them again with a groan.

Spit was curled contentedly around no less than a dozen, shining white eggs.

Fred croaked mockingly from behind them.

[neve-gallus-girl-detective]

OC Tag Game

Thanks to @dudewheresmynug for the tag! Also, I think someone else tagged me? Thank you too! haha

GENERAL:

- Name: Rook

- Alias: ...Rook haha

- Gender: Female

- Age: 27

- Spoken Language: Common, Elven, Some Tevene

- Sexual Orientation: Women,,

- Occupation: Previously, she was studying to be a Mourn Watcher, but struggled with her training. Because she isn't a mage, her role in the Mourn Watch was not as respected, and she bristled against that. After stopping the War of the Banners, she joined Varric on his missions, and he paid her well.

FAVORITE:

- Color: Wisp Blue!

- Entertainment: She enjoys reading, exercising, knitting, and juggling. She likes playing catch with wisps, going for walks through the Necropolis, and collecting cool rocks. On the surface, she enjoys climbing trees, hacky sack, exploring ruins, and sleeping in the grass.

- Food: She loves cheese so much. Potatoes au gratin, rice and cheese, cheese and crackers, fondue, etc. She's also in love with apples and bananas. Any cold, juicy fruit is her favorite. She also has a huge sweet tooth.

-Drink: Hot chocolate and juice. she's never been into caffeine, but she'll drink coffee if it's the only thing around.

HAVE THEY...

- Passed University: She's been an apprentice Mourn Watcher for a long time because she's never dedicated enough effort to passing her exams. Myrna and Vorgoth also know that being a Mourn Watcher isn't her real path, so they've given her some room to figure things out.

- Had Sex: A little, but she's not experienced by any means.

- Had Sex in Public: No way!

- Gotten Tattoos: Nope! But maybe in the future!

- Gotten Piercings: No, but she really wants an industrial so badly and maybe a belly button piercing (as a treat)

- Gotten Scarred: Yes. She has battle scars all over her body and a scar on each wrist :/

- Had a Broken Heart: Not romantically, but she's had a series of little heartbreaks through her whole life.

ARE THEY:

- A Cuddler: Rook is super touchy! She likes having someone lay on her because it makes her feel grounded.

- Scared Easily: She gets jumpscared/startled easily, but she's not afraid often.

- Jealous Easily: It's not jealousy, but she has a lot of self-doubt and starts convincing herself that her partner is going to leave for the other person.

- Trustworthy: More than anything. Rook is honest and genuine to a fault. She's absolutely trust worthy because she's always trying to prove her usefulness and her ability to be trusted.

FAMILY:

-Siblings: None.

- Parents: She's a Foundling and does not know anything about her parents.

- Children: Yes... One... By Accident...

- Pets: She gets a cat! There's something a little too...aware about the cat, but it's always on her shoulders or hanging around. It's a nice constant companion!

I tag (no pressure) @lelianassong @taashyvashedan @2mercia2furious @catcatbutter @pocket-dragon @houseofgraves @calibvrn @timeandmusic-x3

[rom-e-o]

I was just considering: If Belisma was an orphan when she was found, who named her? Was she found with a note/licence (alà Santa Claus is Coming to Town lore)? Did someone in the Watch name her? Was it Vorgoth?

I need the 411!

So, ngl, I took some time to think about this. Because even though the canonical Rook Ingellvar story is that they are discovered as a foundling in the crypts, their name is left pretty open.

'Belisma' is a shortened form of 'bellisima', which is Spanish for 'beautiful.' And since Spanish verbiage is confirmed in Veilguard (thank you, Lucanis) I like to think that names carry over as well.

That being said ... I absolutely hc that Vorgoth named her.

We know Vorgoth likes art, especially paintings (and especially landscapes). It wouldn't shock me if they found this infant with dark, downy hair and eyes like sodden logs, and it reminds them of those moody landscape paintings they collect. Their collection has been called many things. 'Beautiful'. 'Lovely.' And...

Vorgoth: ... BELLISIMA. LIKE THE NEVARRAN WOODS AFTER RAIN. COLD AND WITHDRAWN. MUD SATURATING THE CREVICES OF DECAY.

Watcher: ... It's moody, that is for certain. But it's not really a name, is it? It's an adjective.

Vorgoth: BUT WHAT IS A NAME, TRULY? ARE THEY NOT JUST WORDS, SAME AS ALL OTHERS?

Watcher: ... Well, that's fair. But perhaps something a little less ... haughty? How about Belisma? A little simpler, but the same sentiment. Plus, it's pretty for a little girl!

Vorgoth: .... A FITTING NAME.

A little girl is a little more active and vibrant than a framed painting, but Vorgoth tends to her all the same. They expose her to art, encourage her dancing, and definitely challenge her skills when it comes to her status as a Watcher. Isma does not get off easy just because her mentor/parent is a omnipresent mist being.

Watcher: Her magical skills are good, as is her dexterity. Perhaps Master Volkarin could see to her? Distract her from those foolish dreams of going to the ballet.

Vorgoth: VOLKARIN'S TIME IS BETTER SPENT ON NAVIGATING THE PERILS OF OUR CHANGING TOMBS. HE SHOWS MUCH PROMISE, IT IS NOT TO BE INTERFERED WITH.

Watcher: Are you sure you wouldn't just miss your little girl if she left too soon?

Vorgoth: ... IF SHE IS TO LEAVE, IT SHOULD BE TO PURSUE EXCELLENCE, NOT THE ATTENTION OF ANOTHER.

Watcher: Ah.

Vorgoth: BESIDES, SOMEONE MUST MIND JOHANNA.

Watcher: Yeeesh, very true ... But she must grow up sometime.

Vorgoth: TIME WILL PASS. THERE IS NOT NEED TO RUSH THE INEVITABLE.

Vorgoth is definitely her parental figure, even if she's on a first-name basis with them. Isma, also being 35, has had some time to grow and develop a bit. Her dynamic with them is more akin to a step-parent in terms of dynamics, but when she gets married or becomes pregnant, Vorgoth always seems to find a way to be near. Always watching, sometimes attentively, sometimes dotingly. <3

Oh, and finally. The girl herself (in the MEDIUM graphics setting because the hair physics are hardware-melting, lmao):

My sister: She looks stressed.

Me: She is.

Sister: ... Is that blood?

Me: For all other Watchers, yes. But it's Isma, so here, it's raspberry jam.

(Censored nudity under cut)

(Her chest size is at -80%, and damn. THAT feels personal.)

[curioussubjects]

i started my mourn watch playthrough the other day, and so far it's exactly what i wanted from the veil jumper origin. don't get me wrong, im loving the mourn watcher origin, i just wish a veil jumper rook had gotten a similar treatment. honestly, this might just be my biggest complaint about veilguard.

the special interactions when you reach the necropolis really make you feel like a part of the faction. emmrich has so much special dialogue with a mourn watch rook and he doesn't treat you like you're ignorant of knowledge you should have. instead, he takes your knowledge for granted, based on your likely rank in the watch, and talks to you like a peer. there's also a real sense of kinship between him and rook as fellow necromances dealing with a world that largely misunderstands them and finds their art off-putting.

i also liked the familiarity between rook, myrna, and vorgoth. they're not as close as rook and the crows, for instance, but that makes sense considering the dynamic of the different factions.

meanwhile, as a veil jumper it seems like strife and irelin barely know rook, and bellara talks to you as if you're completely unfamiliar with the workings of arlathan. playing as a mourn watcher now, i barely noticed a difference in dialogue/interaction between rook and the veil jumpers. or even that much difference in how a veil jumper rook behaves in arlathan forest versus a non-veil jumper rook.

it's a huge disappointment too because i can see so many ways that the veil jumpers could've been more developed, letting rook shine regardless of lineage and class, and without overshadowing bellara:

rooks who are tinkerers and can "yes, and" bellara with their knowledge and enthusiasm, historian rooks who are curious about ancient elves and are more focused on the culture than the relics, fade nerd rooks who really care about the metaphysical wonkery in arlathan forest, explorer rooks who really know their way around the forest despite all its weirdness. real missed opportunities here!

and while the veil jumpers aren't as close knit as the crows or the watchers, maybe there could've been more npcs with ambient dialogue who have worked with rook before, or more general commiserating between veil jumpers and their experiences in arlathan forest. i also think it could've been really interesting to lean into strife being strict with rook and irelin being an actual friend who goes behind his back to keep rook in the loop or something.

seriously, bioware, what the hell.

i'd be curious to hear from players who did the other origins. are they as well crafted as the crows and mourn watch origins or are they like the veil jumpers?