writerfromshikahr

[writerfromshikahr]

Heads Up

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I'm taking a couple of weeks off from posting and writing. I'll be back in the New year of course. Just hanging out with my kids and doing stuff in our summer holidays here (also playing copious amount of Veilguard and possibly BG3).

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I very rarely play a male protagonist (I love the male British VA TBH), so I made this sweet man (for Lucanis), Sethius Mercar, maybe some male Rook X Lucanis stuff coming up soonish?

[writerfromshikahr]

So I put this random thought up on my BSky about my canon Rook, Aloisia and Lucanis:

Bellara is writing a fanfic about Lucanis & Aloisia, but she changes their names to Lucaro & Alonia and they are part of the elite group of assassins known as "The Gulls" run by a suave leader named Vigo.

Aloisia is like: "The Gulls? Really? What is "assassiny" about seagulls Bellara?"

One of my followers then said this:

Of course now I’d love to see a scene where she and Lucanis are attacked by seagulls and when they get back to the Lighthouse, she tells Bellara, “Never mind, calling them Gulls works.” - Thank you @ ‪Ser T, Guarding the Veil‬.

🐦‍⬛ CONTACT ACCEPTED 🐦‍⬛

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Two Crows & 20 Something Seagulls - Lucanis X Rook

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The warm Rivaini sun bathed the coastal town as Aloisia and Lucanis strolled along the cobbled streets, their contract complete and their spirits unusually light. After securing a quick lunch from a local bakery—Aloisia with her favourite crusty sandwich and Lucanis indulging in a sweet roll—they decided to take their meal to the small beach area below, settling on the edge of the sea wall.

“This is nice,” Aloisia said, taking a bite of her sandwich and savouring the crisp air mingled with the salty sea breeze. “Quiet.”

Lucanis hummed in agreement, pulling a bit of his sweet roll apart and popping it into his mouth. “You don’t get moments like this in Treviso. Too many people. Too many…”

“Gulls?” Aloisia cut in, nodding toward the growing flock of birds circling above them.

Lucanis glanced up, his dark eyes narrowing as a particularly bold seagull landed a few feet away, staring at his sweet roll with unsettling intensity.

“Relax,” he said, tearing another piece of bread. “It’s one bird.”

The words had barely left his mouth when another gull landed. Then another. And another. Within seconds, they were surrounded.

“Okay, maybe not just one bird,” Aloisia muttered, clutching her sandwich a little closer.

Lucanis scowled, shifting slightly to shield his sweet roll from view. “They won’t do anything. They’re birds.”

At that precise moment, a gull swooped down, its wings flapping wildly as it made a bold grab for Aloisia’s sandwich.

“Hey!” she shouted, jerking back.

Lucanis swatted at the bird, narrowly missing its tail feathers. In the commotion, his sweet roll slipped from his fingers and fell to the sand below.

“Meirda!” he hissed, diving for it, but it was too late. Twenty more gulls appeared as if summoned by an unseen signal, their beady eyes gleaming with malicious intent.

“Lucanis, what’s happening?!” Aloisia shrieked, holding her sandwich high above her head.

“It’s a coordinated attack!” Lucanis shouted, brandishing his cloak like a weapon as gulls dive-bombed from all directions. One particularly aggressive bird latched onto the edge of his sleeve, flapping wildly.

Aloisia yelped as another gull landed on her shoulder, pecking at her sandwich. She spun around, accidentally hitting Lucanis with her free hand.

“Do something! They're swooping at me. Swooping is very bad!"

“I’m trying!” Lucanis growled, grabbing a gull by the neck and holding it aloft while kicking at another that had latched onto his boot. His Antivan grace was nowhere to be seen as he stumbled, swatting and cursing.

Aloisia ducked under his cloak in a desperate attempt to shield herself. “I have half a sandwich left, Lucanis! Half!”

“And I have nothing!” he barked, glaring at the gulls as if sheer intimidation would make them retreat.

Around them, people on the beach had stopped to watch the spectacle, some laughing or calling to their children to look at the “entertaining couple.”

“They’re mocking us,” Aloisia hissed from beneath the cloak.

Lucanis’s response was lost as another gull dive-bombed, narrowly missing his head. His patience snapped. “That’s it!” He brandished his rapier, the polished steel glinting in the sunlight, scattering gulls as he charged forward.

The birds retreated, flapping into the air, but they didn’t go far, circling just out of reach and squawking triumphantly.

Breathless and dishevelled, Aloisia climbed out from under the cloak, clutching the remains of her sandwich. “We lost, didn’t we?”

“Yes. Yes, we did.”

Aloisia looked at him, feathers in his hair and sand on his boots, and started laughing. “The Gulls,” she gasped between giggles. “Bellara is going to love this.”

Lucanis sighed, “I’m never eating outside again.”

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Lucanis and Aloisia trudged into the kitchen at the Lighthouse, bedraggled and thoroughly unimpressed with life. Aloisia’s hair was an unruly mess, streaked with sand, and Lucanis’s cloak had a new, suspicious stain near the shoulder. Both reeked faintly of salt and indignity.

Bellara, lounging with a book on the common room couch, perked up as they walked in. “Back so soon? What happened?”

Lucanis scowled, tossing his cloak over the back of a chair. “Seagulls,” he growled, his Antivan accent thick with disgust.

Aloisia pulled a feather from her hair, holding it up like evidence in a trial. “A flock of them,” she clarified, glaring at Lucanis as though it were somehow his fault. “We were ambushed. Ambushed, Bellara. One even stole my sandwich!”

Bellara, failing to suppress a grin, set her book aside. “Ah, yes, the majestic gull. Nature’s stealthiest assassin.”

Aloisia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t start.”

But Bellara, ever the dramatist, ignored her. “Swooping in with precision, snatching prizes right from under your noses, striking fear into the hearts of—”

“I punched one,” Lucanis interrupted flatly. “It was self-defense.”

Bellara dissolved into laughter, her shoulders shaking as she wiped a tear from her eye. “Lucanis Dellamorte, First Talon of the Crows, the Demon of Vyrantium...bested by seagulls.”

Aloisia crossed her arms. “No, he was fine. They didn’t go after him. Just me. Like they had a personal vendetta or something.”

Bellara smirked, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Maybe they knew you mocked my work. The Gulls are lethal, Aloisia. I’ve been saying this all along.”

Aloisia groaned, “You win, okay? Call them whatever you want. Gulls. Winged harbingers of doom. Seafaring assassins. They’re terrifying. Happy?”

Bellara leaned back, grinning ear to ear, and reached for her notebook.

“Lucaro and Alonia versus the flock,” she murmured to herself. “This will make an excellent chapter.”

[writerfromshikahr]

For tea drinker Rooks

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Tea. Hot. Top Shelf. - Lucanis X Rook

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“If you’re looking for your tea,” Lucanis said, his voice smooth, “it’s on the top shelf.”

Rook raised a brow, already sensing the tease coming. “Top shelf? Really?”

He shrugged, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “It’s where I keep the things I don’t use. Thought it would suit your choice of beverage.” His lips curled into a sly smirk.

“Says the man who drinks four cups of dark, bitter sludge every morning.”

Lucanis chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “It’s practical. Energizing. Tea is…” He gestured vaguely, searching for a word.

“Calming. Delicious,” she finished for him, “And worth your effort, if you went out of your way to buy it.”

His smirk softened into something warmer as he straightened. “It seemed important to you.”

As she set her tea leaves on the counter, she glanced at him. “For someone who claims not to care, you’re terrible at hiding it.”

“You, Rook, are far too observant.”

“Occupational hazard. Now, stop hovering and let me show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

“Tea?” Lucanis scoffed, feigning offence as he retreated to his coffee. “Not a chance.”

But as Rook prepared her drink of choice, she caught Lucanis watching her, curiosity flickering behind his eyes. He wouldn’t admit it, but she knew he was intrigued.

[writerfromshikahr]

"Because I have known despair. I value hope. Because I have tasted frustration. I value fulfillment. Because I have been lonely. I value love."

- Leonard Nimoy

[writerfromshikahr]

I wanted to post a follow up to my written piece on Lucanis recalling the 3 times that Rook and himself has been intimate during Veilguard and there has been some questions on where I am getting 3 times instead of 2.

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The First Time: After Officially Locking in Romance

The Second Time: After Lucanis & Spite Coffee Date

The Third Time : After Tearstone / Fade Prison

[writerfromshikahr]

So look, writing smut makes me painfully uncomfortable. I can do it and do it well, but my little Ace heart isn't fond of doing so. However, I wanted to write the three times we know sort of that Lucanis and Rook were intimate and wanted to write that. Forgive me if it isn't hot, sweaty and going to pound town enough for you all.

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Three Times - Lucanis X Rook

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His mind wandered back to the first time they were intimate.

He had been awkward, missing his mark with his kisses, bumping his nose against hers, and sharing moments of shy laughter that melted the tension between them. She had been so patient with him, her touch gentle and reassuring. Taking his hand, she had guided him, showing him how to please her. Though he had no idea what he was doing, she made him feel safe in his cluelessness.

But like with everything Lucanis set his mind to, he had been a quick study. When he finally pushed her over the edge into a pleasure he had never witnessed before, it had taken him by surprise. The memory of how beautiful she looked in that moment was seared into his mind.

He remembered her looking up at him, her voice trembling but sure as she told him how much she wanted him—that she needed to feel him, his weight, his hands, his mouth. Maker, he had tried to give her everything, pouring himself into every touch. But unlike the romance novels he had read, where lovemaking lasted for hours, their first time had been brief—a few quick, awkward minutes.

He had been sheepishly apologetic afterwards, his face hot with embarrassment, but she had only smiled at him. “Luca,” she said, her voice soft and soothing, “it’s your first time. It’s not about how long—it’s about who with.” She had kissed him then, pulling him closer, her sweetness grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.

At that moment, all his fumbling felt like nothing compared to the warmth and acceptance she had given him. She had never once made him feel less than, or like the inexperienced fool he feared he might seem. Instead, she made him feel cherished, and for that, he knew he would always be hers.

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The second time they explored this new intimacy, Lucanis had been slightly more confident in his efforts. He was still learning her, just as she was learning him. He wasn’t even sure what he liked yet—how he wanted to be touched—but she had a way of finding the places that made his body respond, sometimes to her gentle touch, other times to a firmer one.

In return, he had discovered spots on her that elicited the sweetest sounds: her breathless moans, her saying his name like a prayer. That had quickly become his new addiction. She’d shown him so much the first time, and Maker help him, he remembered every detail—exactly how to touch her, how fast, how slow—until her pleasure, the pleasure he had given her, washed over her in a stunning, heated wave. That would never get old.

“You’re getting good at this, Lucanis,” she teased, her eyes heavy-lidded with the bliss of her afterglow as she pulled him into a kiss.

This time, though, he was determined to last longer. To hold on, to savor this, to ensure it didn’t end before it truly began. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, as though any space between them was unacceptable, he knew she felt the same.

He paced himself, holding onto control, though his own pleasure tugged at him insistently. He wanted these moments to stretch into eternity. His face buried in her neck, he tried to speak—to tell her how deeply he adored her—but his words fell apart, reverent and broken.

And then, with perfect timing, she whispered five words that undid him completely: “You feel so fucking good.”

That was it. He lost himself, his control unraveling as he buried himself in her, a string of Antivan spilling from his lips—words he hadn’t even realized he’d said until later, when she told him about them with a satisfied smile.

If this, he thought in the hazy aftermath, was losing time with her. This was losing it in the best possible way.

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The third time had been different. His heart stilled at the thought of that evening they shared.

She had been gone for weeks, imprisoned by Solas in the Fade—alone, searching for a way back to the mortal world. He had been certain he would never see her again. Even Spite had been unsettled by her absence, confused and restless, which had only added to Lucanis’s struggle. He had tried to explain it to the spirit, though the words had felt hollow to his own ears.

When she returned, he went to her without hesitation. She needed him, and it was his turn to surround her with safety, care, and love. But what he saw when he looked at her made his chest ache. She was lost, unsure if she was truly there, in the same room with him. Her usual confidence had crumbled, and he had never seen her so… broken.

"I know exactly how to feel," he had said to her, and he did. For the first time in their relationship, he allowed himself to embrace every emotion—the weight of his love for her, the overwhelming relief of her return, and the quiet strength of them.

He had kissed her with a tender, quiet longing, pouring everything he felt into the moment. Spite, though silent, had made his presence known as Lucanis's emotions surged, triggering their wings to unfurl. Wrapping around her instinctively, a physical manifestation of both protection and connection. In that moment, the world outside ceased to matter; it was just the two of them, sheltered in a cocoon of love and resilience.

Their intimacy had been unhurried, absent of their usual passion and enthusiastic push toward mutual, exquisite bliss. This time, it was about remembrance—cherishing every sigh she made, every groan that escaped his lips, and every quiet word spoken between them. It was tender, undemanding, and filled with love, reaffirming what tethered them.

Lucanis had loved her with every inch of himself, asking for nothing in return. He had kissed every part of her, touched every curve, and celebrated each beautiful imperfection she usually tried to hide. And she had let him. She had pulled him close, as if she still couldn't believe that they were both together again, the way she had looked at him, with eyes full of quiet wonder and a vulnerability she rarely let anyone see. Her fingers had brushed over his cheek, trembling as though she feared he might disappear if she let go. "You're really here," she had whispered, her voice catching on the edges of relief and disbelief. And in that moment, Lucanis knew he'd never let anything or anyone take her from him again.

Just like the romance novels he had always secretly adored, their lovemaking stretched late into the evening. Afterward, they lay tangled together, happily exhausted and content in their love.

Not even the Elven Gods could break it—for it was a bond forged in defiance, tempered by trials, and unshakable in its truth.

[writerfromshikahr]

A Shadow Dragon (female) Rook's perspective after the big choice. I am currently doing a SD play through and it always struck me as odd that no one speaks to a SD Rook after this, if they have saved Treviso. This is also a pre-relationship moment with Lucanis because I always romance him, let me have my things.

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Shadows & Dragons - Lucanis X Rook

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"Neve is taking it hard. Tarquin is beside himself, and Viper… it’s a lot," Lace said, her voice heavy as she addressed the rest of the companions. "Neve’s going to be gone for a while, cleaning up the mess. And, well...we need to do what we can for Minrathous—to help."

Rook stood silently by the fireplace, her gaze fixed on the flames. Had no one considered the weight of the choice she’d made? The destruction of her city hung over her like a shroud. She didn’t regret her decision—Treviso had needed to be saved. The Shadow Dragons had always endured before. That’s why she had sent Lace and Bellara there. With the Templars and Magisters in Minrathous, she had thought her home could stand strong. Treviso had nothing, no one to protect them apart from the Crows—and they weren’t exactly known for slaying dragons.

"Yes, we need to offer whatever help we can to Minrathous and Neve," Lucanis said, his tone steady but concerned. His dark eyes flicked to her. Rook, do you have any ideas?"

Rook turned to him, her expression tense. "You’re asking me?" Her voice cracked under the weight of unspoken emotion. "I’m the reason this happened. Minrathous is my home. I grew up there, played in the streets, and I have—" She faltered, then corrected herself bitterly. "Had family there. Yet not one of you has asked how I’m doing. I know I made the call," she continued, her voice rising. "But those were my people. The Shadow Dragons blame me for the fall of their city, my city, and they’re right. I let them down. Saving Treviso was the right decision—I don’t regret it—but I’m numb. I don’t know what to think, let alone how to feel. And now you’re asking me again…?"

"I… Rook…" Lucanis started, his voice soft but unsure.

"I’ll fix this," Rook interrupted, her voice trembling slightly. "I’ll figure out a way to fix it. But right now? I can’t."

The words felt heavy, almost like an admission of defeat. She looked at Lucanis, searching his expression for something—understanding, perhaps—but found only his quiet concern. "You all talk among yourselves. I need to get some air."

Without waiting for a reply, she excused herself and left the kitchen, her footsteps quick and purposeful. She needed space—room to think, to process—but most of all, to escape the weight of everyone’s eyes on her.

Rook climbed the stairs in a blur, her heart heavy with guilt and frustration. Reaching the balcony, she sighed in relief at the silence, leaning back against the cool stone wall. She closed her eyes, letting the faint glow of the Fade light warm her skin. For a fleeting moment, it was peaceful, a rare reprieve from the chaos below.

Blighted dragons. No one had been prepared for what they’d faced, least of all her. The one in Treviso had been nearly impossible to kill—if it hadn’t flown off, she wasn’t sure they could have stopped it.

Her mind wandered to Tarquin’s words, sharp and accusatory. Neve had been just as upset, though her tone had been a touch less brutal. Only Viper had refrained from placing the blame squarely on her shoulders—not that it brought much comfort.

She understood the urgency, the team’s need to help Minrathous. But what stung the most, cutting deeper than she’d expected, was the complete lack of acknowledgment that Minrathous was her city, too. She’d grown up there, lived its stories, and lost family in its streets.

The damage was done. She couldn’t take it back. But as she stared out at the quiet horizon, one thought consumed her—how can I make this right?

She let out a long sigh, startled when she realized she hadn’t even heard him approach.

"Rook… I’m sorry," Lucanis said softly. His voice was heavy with sincerity. "For what happened to Minrathous."

He lowered himself to sit beside her, his presence grounding despite the weight of the moment. "I don’t think I could have made such a decision," he admitted.

She turned to him slowly, her gaze distant yet resolute. "That’s what I do, Lucanis—make the hard choice and follow through. Whether I can fix everything afterward is another story altogether." She exhaled shakily. "But Neve… the way she looked at me. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me. And I wouldn’t expect her to."

Lucanis offered her a soft, reassuring smile. "Neve will come around. She’s a sensible woman, Rook, and you were put in an impossible position. You went with your heart—"

"It wasn’t my heart, Lucanis," she interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. "I went with what I knew. Treviso has no army, no defenses… It wasn’t about yo—" She caught herself, the words hanging unspoken in the air. Her expression flickered with vulnerability as she hesitated before finishing, "Our friendship."

"But thank you," he said softly. "Thank you for saving my home, my people. If you hadn’t…" He paused, his voice tightening. "I can’t even imagine what would have happened if you hadn't helped. I will always be grateful for what you did."

She offered him a half-smile, but it lacked warmth—more resignation than anything else. "At least someone is pleased," she replied, her tone edged with bitterness.

"I’m not pleased that another city—your home—had to be sacrificed for mine," he said, his gaze steady on hers. "But I’m grateful to have a leader—and a friend—who can make the tough call when it matters most."

[writerfromshikahr]

A class specific piece. I'm a rogue for life and wanted to write a piece about Rook and her amazing talents for using a longbow.

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Slinging Arrows - Lucanis X Rook

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Lucanis watched in awe as his archer girlfriend, Rook, sprang into action. In combat, she moved like a blur—effortlessly twirling, flipping, and darting between the legs of the Hurlock they were fighting. “You’re too close, Rook!” he shouted, worry edging his voice. She glanced back at him, shooting a dazzling smile over her shoulder as she nocked another arrow. “They can’t hurt what they can’t touch, Dellamorte,” she replied, already aiming her bow at her next target before he could protest further.

Archery had never been Lucanis’s strength. He could handle a bow if necessary, but it was a far cry from the precise lethality of his daggers or rapier. Viago, of course, had trained Rook in noble weaponry—because why wouldn't he? It wasn't uncommon for a Crow to possess a decent skill in bows, be they short or long, but Rook made it look like an art form.

The strength required to wield her longbow was remarkable. Sure, he was no stranger to the kind of force needed to snap a man’s neck or drive a dagger into a heart with pinpoint accuracy, but Rook’s skill? That was a different kind of precision altogether.

She was a force of nature: flasks, grenades and charged arrows raining devastation down on her enemies. At a considerable distance, she could blow them apart, leave them stunned, or pin them in place with terrifying efficiency. She wasn’t just an assassin or a sniper, she was a whirlwind of strategy and lighting chaos rolled into one.

As he watched her loose another arrow, her movements were fluid and her determination unshakable. Lucanis couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Formidable didn’t even begin to cover it.

[writerfromshikahr]

"This is my confession. As dark as I am, I will always find enough light to adore you to pieces, with all of my pieces." - Johnny Nguyen

[writerfromshikahr]

"One day I'm just gonna say fuck it all. And let my demons out to play." - Fuckology

[writerfromshikahr]

I love these two people stupidly with all my heart. Canon dialogue choices. I posted yesterday why I choose these options in this particular post HERE 💖

[writerfromshikahr]

"Don't fall in love with me. I'm a devil." he warned. "I know, but I still want you." she smiled. "Do you even know what a devil is?" he questioned. "An angel filled with pain." she kissed. - Ashish Barecha

[writerfromshikahr]

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Why I choose the dialogue I do. Random thoughts I've tried to put into some sort of sense.

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"I can't believe...so much happened. I don't know how to feel."

Rook will say this to him. They're are lost, unsure of what’s real, safe, or even what they're allowed to feel, and then there’s Lucanis—kneeling (though I believe he is squatting) before them, meeting Rook at their lowest, anchoring them with his unwavering devotion.

His words, "I do," hold so much weight. It’s not just about how he feels; it’s a declaration. He’s telling Rook that even in all the chaos, confusion, and pain, he’s certain about them. His response is exactly what Rook needs in that moment. He isn't asking them to figure things out, to simply move on, or to pretend that nothing has happened. Instead, he offers them his certainty and love as a guiding light.

The gentle kiss isn’t just affection—it's a promise, a lifeline, and a way of saying I’m here and you’re here.

And that quiet, "I know exactly how to feel," is him saying he’ll feel for both of them until Rook can find themselves again. And you just know that, in true Lucanis fashion, he’ll never let them doubt his love or their worth ever again.

Rook's, "Just don't leave," is heartbreaking. It’s not just about physical presence—it’s them begging for an anchor, stability, for someone who won’t abandon them when they feel so lost.

And Lucanis, without hesitation, meets their plea with absolute conviction.

"Never."

For someone like Rook, who’s endured so much loss, doubt and isolation in the Fade, that kind of reassurance is everything. Lucanis saying "Never" isn’t just an answer—it’s a vow. A declaration that no matter what the world throws at them, he’ll stay.

And you know he’ll back up that promise every single day. Lucanis isn’t just saying the words; he’s living them. Even when he’s consumed by his fears and doubts, even when his world is crumbling, Rook is the one thing he’ll hold onto.

Their love isn’t flashy or overdramatic—it’s grounded in moments like this. Quiet, deeply intimate exchanges where they show, in every word and gesture, how much they mean to each other.

And because of this, Rook can start to believe that they are not alone, he'll feel for both of them, he sees them, loves them, and will fight to stay by their side.

Always.

[writerfromshikahr]

The talented @guarda-veu.bsky.social captured a favourite moment I have recently written between these two dorks. How adorable is this? You can read the piece here: Assassination With Words

[writerfromshikahr]

"You loved parts of my soul that I was ashamed to have - why should I not choose you?" - usjpoetry

[writerfromshikahr]

If Aloisia de Riva had a cellphone, this is what her photo section would look like 💖

[writerfromshikahr]

Another piece that is about my Rook, a Dwarf named Aloisia de Riva. She's shorter than Lace Harding and struggles to reach things. As I usually say, for the most part I write non-specifically on who and what Rook is (apart from being female), but sometimes I just need to write about this little lady that stole Lucanis's heart.

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Practically Romantic - Lucanis X Rook

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Lucanis knocked on Davrin's opened door, peeking in to see if his friend was there. Assan bounded up to greet him, the griffon tackling his boots playfully as he entered the room. Davrin was seated at his desk sharpening a blade, he glanced up smiling before gesturing toward a nearby chair.

“Come in, Crow. Sit, stay awhile.”

Lucanis sighed inwardly as he sat, already bracing himself for the ridicule that was bound to follow. He had a question, and Davrin, unfortunately, was the best person for the task.

He and Rook had officially started something—a relationship. And while Lucanis wasn’t the sort for grand romantic gestures, he was a man of practicality. Rook often struggled to reach the top shelves in the kitchen when helping him prepare meals. More than once, he’d caught her climbing the cupboards and while he found it endearing (and slightly terrifying), he thought a small wooden stool might make her life a little easier.

Simple. Useful. Thoughtful.

Hopefully thoughtful.

Davrin set the blade down with a clink, his expression curious and expectant. “So, Lucanis, what can I do for you this fine evening? Need a whetstone, or did Spite whisper something about buying a griffon-sized saddle for Assan again?”

“I need you to make something for me,” he said hesitantly.

Davrin’s grin widened, eyes already sparkling with mischief. “Oh, this sounds promising. What do you need? Don’t be shy now.”

“A stool,” Lucanis replied. “For Rook.”

“A stool,” Davrin echoed, blinking slowly. “Like… a wooden stool?”

“Yes, it’s for the kitchen.” He replied, trying to sound casual. “She can’t reach the top shelves, and I don’t know how much longer the counter can withstand her climbing it.”

There was silence—right before Davrin barked out a loud laugh, his head thrown back. “A stool? That’s your big romantic gesture? Not flowers? Not jewelry? A stool?”

“It’s practical. She needs it.”

“Practical,” Davrin repeated slowly, savoring the word like a fine wine. “Maker’s breath, you really are Antivan. Romance just pours out of you. You could get her a broom—sweep her off her feet, yeah?”

“Very clever.” Lucanis shot him a flat look. “Do you want to make it or not?”

“Hey, I’m just admiring the thought process here. Nothing says ‘I adore you’ quite like, ‘Here, I noticed you’re short.’”

“Meirda, it would have been easier to throw gold at someone in Treviso.”

Davrin wiped at his eyes, still chuckling, but he held up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right—calm down. I’ll do it. A furniture maker, I am not, but I think I can manage a simple stool for your lady.”

Lucanis exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.”

Davrin leaned forward, his grin returning. “Can I at least put a heart on it? Or a crow? Something so she doesn’t think you’re preparing her for lifelong domestic servitude?”

Lucanis paused. “Can you decorate it?”

Davrin grinned, nodding. “Sure. I’ll even make it collapsible so she can pack it for out in the field. I can see her now, setting it up in Arlathan to better loom over you.”

Lucanis shot him a flat look but couldn’t suppress the faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Just get it done, Davrin.”

“Oh, it’ll be done,” Davrin said with a wink, already turning back to his tools. “The Antivan Crow romance continues, this weeks chapter, 'Love and the gifting of practical wooden furniture. What every woman needs and desires'.”

Lucanis exhaled sharply, leaning back in the chair. “You mock, but she’ll smile when she sees it, and that’s what matters.”

Davrin barked out a laugh, nearly dropping the tool he’d picked up. “You’ve got it bad Dellamorte.”

“Just make sure it’s sturdy.”

“Sturdy, collapsible, and Rook-approved! The most romantic stool in Thedas, coming right up!”

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A week later, Lucanis found himself standing in Davrin’s room, the faint scent of sawdust and oil lingering in the air. Assan warbled from the windowsill, bobbing his head as if to approve of the atmosphere. Davrin stood over his workbench, grinning proudly, a cloth draped over whatever he was about to unveil.

“Well, Dellamorte,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Prepare to witness the pinnacle of Grey Warden carpentry. I’ll warn you now—it may bring a tear to your eye.”

Lucanis shot him a skeptical look but felt the faintest tug of curiosity. “I doubt it will be that impressive.”

Davrin smirked, clearly undeterred by the Crow's stoicism. With a theatrical flourish, he whipped the cloth off the stool.

Lucanis blinked.

The stool was small, sturdy, and clearly crafted with care. What caught him off guard, however, was the detail Davrin had carved into it. Little crows decorated the legs and edges, scattered playfully among delicate roses that intertwined in an almost whimsical design. The wood wasn’t perfectly smoothed in some places—there were faint grooves where the tools had slipped—but the imperfections only added to its charm. It was thoughtful, earnest, and far beyond what Lucanis had imagined.

He ran a hand over the carvings, tracing the patterns. “This is…” His voice trailed off, surprised. He looked up at his friend, genuinely touched. “This is beautiful.”

Davrin shrugged, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant. “It’s just a stool.”

“It’s more than just a stool,” Lucanis said, his tone soft as his fingers lingered on one of the roses.

The Warden leaned against the workbench, watching him with an easy grin. “Yeah, well, I figured if you’re going to give her something practical, it should be something she’d want to look at. You’ve got that brooding assassin thing going on, sure, but the rest of us need to pick up the slack for your romantic game.”

Lucanis glanced up at him, shaking his head but smiling faintly. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

Davrin waved him off. “Can’t have you giving your girl some plain, boring plank and calling it a day.”

Lucanis chuckled, a rare warmth in his voice. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“Of course she will—it came from you. Now go give it to her. Make her smile. Oh, and Lucanis, maybe don’t give a speech about practicality when you hand it over. Women love gestures—big or small. Just let her know it’s about her, not her inability to reach the top shelf.”

💖 She really is twee 💖