I always give proper spoiler and trigger warnings.
Ageless or minor blogs will be blocked. If you're a minor, please do not interact.
English isn't my first language.
This whole blog is a work in progress, so bare with me.
I am Vess, 27 years old, and go by she/her. I love to write out my thoughts and brain rot, and I need a place to put them so yeah, welcome to my madness ig. This blog is kinda new, and we'll see where it'll lead us. So please feel free to talk to me about Baldur's Gate or Dragon Age. (Just recently finished dao, da2 and started with dai. Don't scream at me, I am already a mess.)
I do take requests, but mostly people don't request things, so I won't put up rules until there are more people wanting me to write something.
Baldur's Gate 3 [Masterlist]
Dragon Age Inquisition [Masterlist]
Dragon Age The Veilguard [Masterlist]
Here you will find me rambling about my babies, share their aesthetic and stuff. Most of what I write is in (in)direct context to one of them, if not stated differently.
I will always tag the OC that is linked to the work.
For so long, I have waited, so long that I almost became. Just a stoic statue, fit for a nobody, and I don't wanna get in your way, but I finally think I can say, that the vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me.
I know, I know, the way that it goes. You get what you give, you reap what you sow, and I can see you in my fate, and I know, I know, I am what I am: The mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb.
Rain by Sleep Token | Main Navigation | DAI Masterlist
[CW/TW]: loss of loved ones, guilt, canon violence
no actual spoiler warning besides canon events from DAI
mage, very skilled with lighting/thunderstorms
later specialised as knight enchanter
semi good with healing
grew up in her clan and had a vision to make their lives better
shared everything with her best friend, Raemis
was always very eager to learn new things
before she even felt magic, she was good with a blade
that was the one thing she couldn't share with him, blades scared him
is especially skilled with a spear or glaive
melee fighting was never a problem for her since her staff could have used to boink people to come too close for her liking
like to fight with a sword to, especially since she found out that most metal blades will carry her lightning further into her opposite
most people underestimate her
as she started to feel the fade and practiced magic, so did Raemis
their keeper decided to train her very soon, and Raemis got sent away to another clan (they didn't want him to join the circle)
the two clans stayed in very close contact afterwards
Orianna and Raemis became the voices that connected them
that's why she was often travelling, doing some chores that helped both
deep inside she knew there was something more between them, but she would never dare to risk endanger their clans
of course she spent a lot of time in the forests, high surviving skills
very good with words but hates to lie
one day she went out to help Raemis’ clan because their keeper got sick
they needed to escort him, and Raemis to a skilled healer to save him,they didn't make it far
some templar attacked them, they didn't even started negotiating, they straightforward went for the troubled keeper and tore him apart
Raemis got furious and wanted revenge, Orianna begged him to leave
it cost his and some of the hunters who were by their side lifes and that was the moment Orianan snapped for the first time
she summoned a storm that destroyed the whole area, the poor templar didn't even see it coming
got a huge scar on her left arm from the fight when one of the templar managed to hit her, the lightning jumped back onto her forearm
she kept a simple silver ring from him after burying him, a single word engraved in the inside : Telanadas [Nothing is inevitable]
the loss broke her, but she needed to move on, there was a lot she needed to protect their clan from
still travelled a lot to learn more, especially about the enemies
her vallaslin moves down to her ribs, delicate lines under her boobs, fading to her back
Varric calls her daggers because of her silver tongue - her really passive aggressive way to communicate critics with humans (esp nobles) but also for the fact that almost all people do underestimate her (many people doesn't even know she is the inquisitor until Halamshiral) and that she, like a dagger, can be so deadly next to the finesse and grace she carries
she once encountered Zevran, and they share some bittersweet history [read just my type for more of them]
Zevran gave her the nickname Ori
offers this name only a very few, and acts very defensive when someone just calls her like that
in Veilguard, she rushes ASAP to Minrathous after hearing that Aedith is in danger
has big troubles sleeping in actual beds, especially when too far away from nature
Bonus: Orianna Rutherford later/older in Veilguard
Between teeth on a broken jaw, following a blood trail, frothing at the maw. These days, I'm a circuit board, integrated hardware you cannot afford. The perfect start to a perfect war, putting down the roses, picking up the sword.
Cold love, hot blood, running to your heart when you're thinking of. Oh, and I am done dancing to alarm bells. No wonder my ears are still ringing, and I am done fighting off change. No wonder my arms are still swinging.
Aqua Regia by Sleep Token | Main Navigation
Simple facts and backround:
[CW/TW: loss of loved ones, trauma, corrupted feelings, kind of cheating?] [Spoilerwarning for DAO dalish origin background and story]
dalish rogue
grew up in their clan and dreamed of becoming the greatest protector of their clan together with her closest friend Tamlem (and his little sister, my crow Rook Aedith)
she always stood up for everyone
despite Tamlem’s hate for humans, she thought that everyone deserves a second chance
never saw herself as special, just wanted to have a calm life in her clan
she always needed a purpose, taking care of the children, train the younglings, help with the Hallas, everything she could find
a workaholic, simply can not rest
sleeps like a rock (well until the nightmares of the archdemon ofc)
was always a very decent person, but loved to get to know people
her first interactions with humans were completely disgusting
that’s the only reason she joined Tamlem on his mission to hunt the humans that came to close
simply hates to submit to others
often slips into elvish when talking with non dales
she was terrified when sent to the Grey Wardens but she had a new goal to accomplish
after losing Tamlem, she realized how much of a threat the blight was for her clan, so she swore to protect them with everything she got
quickly adjusted to her new life, and new mission
learned quickly that she is very capable of talking people into doing stuff for her
got really comfortable in her new leader role
she never thought of herself to be someone who would fall in love
jokes on her, she fell in love, with two men, and was doomed
she loved the attention Zevran and Alistair gifted her and she loved the feeling when she simply talked to them
not even within her clan she felt as whole as she did with them, how could she be able to choose?
she did not
Alistair chose for them, he chose that he couldn’t stay her lover as the new king, what would the people think?
after the blight was defeated, she still stayed with Alistair and she talked Zevran (as her official lover) into staying as well
still Fraey and Alistair couldn’t keep their hands off of each other
they tried to keep it as professional as possible around the outside
it was a mess, a mess that also affected a lot of people around them
a mess that lead Fraey to jump head over heels in a lot of work, Zevran leaving them again, and Alistair being more or less conflicted with choosing a queen (and producing a heir) when his queen was right there
is travelling a lot to get some distance to everything after Zevran’s leaving and help everywhere and nowhere
trying to crush herself with work to overcome the emptiness inside
Turn me into your mannequin, and I'll turn you into my puppet queen. Won't you come and dance in the dark with me? Show me what you are, I am desperate to know nobody better than the perfect enemy. Digital demons make the night feel heavenly.
Make it real, 'cause anything's better than the way I feel right now. I can offer you a blacklit paradise. Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky. Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails, with one eye on the door, other eye on a rail, other eye following a scarlet trail, and the last few drops from the Holy Grail.
Ascensionism by Sleep Token | Main Navigation | DATV Masterlist
Simple facts and backround:
[CW/TW: loss of loved ones, oprhan, trauma, nightmares, corrupted feelings, family issues]
[Spoilerwarning for DAO dalish origin background and story]
Crow rogue
grew up in Dalish clan, was the younger sister of Tamlem and always tagged close behind him and Fraey (my HoF)
they lost their parents very early that’s why she had a kinda unhealthy relationship to them, almost saw them as her parents but they loved her nevertheless
as the blight got her brother and Fraey was sent to the Grey Warden she also wanted to tag along, but got denied
left the clan as they started to travel too far away because she wanted to live with her ‘sister/mother’ again
as she met her brother as victim of the blight she was desperate to find a ‘cure’, she could not again loose him
that way she also found the camp of Fraey and had to witness her killing Tamlem, they buried him together like the Dalish would’ve done
after a huge (verbal) fight she wanted to stay with the hero group, was sent to Redcliffe to stay with Arl Eamon as long as possible
she hated humans just like her brother until she met Alistair
after the blight she moved in with Fraey, Alistair and Zevran to the castle and learned everything important by them
kleptomaniac
always stole things to gain attention from her parental figures
she was literally raised by those three which ended in an unhealthy relationship to her emotions, like cover true emotions, seeing love as a mask and using her body as an absolute advantage [for more input look into Fraey’s character sheet]
always saw Alistair and Zevran like ‘new’ father figures
daddy issues
as soon as Zevran left them, she wanted to go out to find her own place in the world
as she was often seen with the infamous crow as a child, the crows thought they could use her as a bait, that is how she ended with the crows themself and thought yeah, why not, i am a de riva now
in her late 20s
could use her body and female benefits for fulfilling contracts
only divided people into three groups: hot (would sleep with), ugly (not interesting enough), creepy (will ignore or maybe kill)
is not interested in building lasting relationships and emotional bonding
emotions = weakness (saw how Fraey, Zevran and Alistair destroyed themselves with those things…)
is a complete flirt
is scared of growing old (and ugly) and losing her charm/worth by implication
Viago gave her the name magpie because she loves shiny things (and to steal them)
nickname is Aeds, Illario started calling her maggi because of the other name
had an ongoing (secret) situationship with Illario, they met at a dinner party in the De Riva villa and couldn’t keep their hands off each other
only Viago, Teia and Catherina knew about her past and the situationship (Illario did not know about Zevran tho)
Catherina hates her, she says that Aedith is not worth of anything (especially not enough for her grandson)
she once tried to steal from no one else but Orianna [my inky], that’s when she got the little scar at her cheek
had a lot hard conversations with Varric because of all that childhood trauma
i mean, she lost all her founded families / father figures after another
wears her hair similar to Zevran’s, the braid is something Alistair always did to her hair, and the vallaslin is an honour to Fraey
I guess it goes to show, does it not? That we've no idea what we've got, until we lose it and no amount of love will keep it around, if we don't choose it. And I don't know what's got its teeth in me, but I'm about to bite back in anger. No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.
My, my, those eyes like fire, I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre. Come now, bite through these wires. I'm a waking hell, and the gods grow tired. Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher. Grow back your sharpest teeth. You know my desire.
Take me back to Eden by Sleep Token | Main Navigation | BG3 Masterlist
Simple facts and backround:
[CW/TW: abuse, slavery, trauma, ptsd, violence, torture, nightmares, amnesia, ITS DURGE C'MON]
[Spoilerwarning for the whole dark urge backround]
paladin - oath of vengeance in the past / oathbreaker in the present
redeemed durge
mephistopheles tiefling
Vessel was more or less raised by Sceleritas, but never learned about casual, let alone important stuff in life (only murder)
Orin was the one thing that taught her a sense of protectiveness
adored her younger sister a lot, even if she only had reluctance towards her
only thing Orin loved was to get her hair braided by Vessel, so she wanted to repay the favor and took care of the blades of her sister
has a really weird world view because of her education and training
it was hard overall to grow own interests, opinions and likings
never felt like an actual person, only as Bhaal’s vessel, that’s how she got the name in the first place
when she became the chosen one, Orin made sure that she was more presentable, even when she wanted her to fail to take her place, she somehow cared about her (in her own weird way)
learned everything else in life from Enver
Enver taught her how to manipulate people in a very charismatic way and he showed her that there's more worth living for than her father’s bloodshed
taught her that there are many more ways than brutality and cruelty to achieve a goal
your honor, they were in love but never accepted it
Vessel didn’t know better and Enver didn’t want things to be weird [they were already weird]
if you want to read a lil more of their past [headcanon for vess’ past]
Enver gave her the nickname Vess, because she was/is so much more than a vessel, and also gifted her clothes and jewelry that should show her worth (to him)
through him she slowed down the slaughter and murder, her urge lessened, she started to feel pity for most of her (innocent) victims
that's when the nightmares started ( a complete new sensation for her)
Enver saw how she suffered, and suggested a new way for her: an oath
she became a paladin and swore for vengeance, so she would only murder those who deserve it
it was hard to combine the desire and demands of her father and the way of the oath, but somehow she could manage and her life got easier
never was good with feelings, and empathy, mostly just says what she thinks
after the Moonrise Tower incident, she lost all her memories
act on pure instinct, she is not a person to plan stuff
very impulsive
what stayed after the Nautiloid crash was her protectiveness, bluntness and her charismatic side (both persuasion and intimidation)
nightmares of her past haunt her every night
mostly does not trust herself
she also forgot about Enver, only a little letter reminded her that there’s someone waiting in Baldur’s Gate for her
became an oathbreaker because sometimes she needed to deal different with people to protect their group
would rather walk through the nine hells than even lose one of the group
fell hard for Astarion without realizing it
hates when someone touches her horns or tails
is not good in taking care of herself, really reckless behavior
would never judge a person because of their past, I mean, she can’t recall her own besides all the red trails
I want to use more ideas like that to write without rereading and correcting it for two weeks. I want to have fun while writing and I had. So last night I thought: What if Elgar'nan had someone he cared about before he was imprisoned. Someone that wasn't Mythal or the other Evanuris.
He stood there, surrounded by the sound of rustling trees and the silence of the night. Golden eyes stared down long, overgrown paths that had once shimmered in the moonlight. Someone - probably those humans or his own slowly dying kind - had long since stolen the lyrium crystals that had adorned the paths, lighting them up during the night.
He walked silently through the long-forgotten gardens. If he hadn't visited this place so often eons ago, he probably wouldn't have recognized any of it. But he had. To one side stood the crumbling walls of his temple, the once glorious monument built by his own followers. It had been a place where he had found worship, devotion, and something else he knew he had lost the moment Fen'Harel had imprisoned him.
Fen'Harel had forced him to endure the darkness, with only thoughts of vengeance and anger to keep him focused. Even when the first of the Evanuris had begun to wither and die, after their Archdemons had been killed by those pesky Grey Wardens in the past, he had endured. Now he was free again. Too late.
His robe billowed behind him as he continued his silent walk through the wilderness, stopping under a tree that hadn't stood here when this had been the sacred gardens of his sanctuary. Then, no trees had been allowed to block the sun - his gift to his children.
It had been the duty of his followers to tend the gardens, to keep the flowers blooming in vibrant colors and filling the air with the sweet perfume of ancient times.
Now the trees cast shadows around it, and he could barely find any kind of flora he recognised. There was nothing left of the glow and the sweet scent. No trace of the elves who had once lived here. He'd already inspected the interior of the ruin, but whatever had survived the centuries of abandonment - and whatever hadn't been stolen by the Tevinter savages thousands of years ago - had been lost in other ways. Either it had crumbled to dust, or it had become a decorative piece in some home of the creatures who considered themselves above the Evanuris. Above him.
Elgar'nan stepped deeper into the underbrush, following a trail he only remembered, but which had long since disappeared. When he found the crumbling foundations of the well that had once graced this garden, he stopped. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stepped closer.
He had not thought he would find traces of their past here. And yet, as he approached and the silvery moonlight illuminated the engravings in the ancient stone, he couldn't help but shake his head. Memories came back of a time when this fountain had been glorious, its water providing a background noise that added to the atmosphere of the temple's life.
He would always remember that night, and the mere acknowledgement of the memory brought a pain to his chest that he thought had long since died.
He stared down at the water that filled the ruins of the well. It reflected the dark blue sky above, just like her eyes.
Yes, there had been a time when this temple had not only been the sign of his divinity and power. It had not only been the place where his faithful followers had thanked him, worshiped him, and loved him. It had been her home, and she had been his. His Vhenan. A long time ago.
Despite himself, he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the well and looked over to where he had first seen her. She had been tending the flowers - her hands nimble and so delicate. Her skin was like the finest marble, her hair a silvery blonde. He hadn't noticed her at first - he had never paid much attention to the lower inhabitants of his temple. But she...
He looked up at the moon, feeling bittersweet emotions swirl in his chest. Sadness at losing the one thing he had never wanted to lose. Wrath about the fact that Fen'Harel had destroyed the only pure thing in Elgar'nan’s existence without even knowing. And yet, memories of soft hands and sweet words remained - words that had been truly caring. Words that had never demanded anything, never touched him with anything but the purpose of deep devotion, acceptance, and unconditional love.
Until her, he hadn't believed in such a thing. He hadn't thought it could be something a divine being like him was allowed to feel, to have, or even to be capable of. But he had. Once. A long time ago. Traces of it he still felt. Whispers of memories buried deep beneath the anger, the weight of being imprisoned with only despair and madness for company.
He reached for a wildflower that grew near the well, its leaves reflecting the silver moonlight. He plucked it and looked at the white flower, the shape of it. It was not a flower he had ever seen before. In a way, it was just like her.
Memories of her soft voice came back, like a whisper carried by the trees, offering to help him with his anger. Back then, he had been stunned by the realization that he didn't have to lash out, hurt, or destroy to let the anger subside. She had shown him gentler ways to temper that searing anger.
But now, the rage tore at his insides, relentless and consuming. Without her, he couldn't let it subside. He would need her to silence the rage, to quench the fire within.
But she was gone.
Like this temple. Like his glorious empire. Like the future he had promised her. Only anger and vengeance remained.
He stood and the flower fell back to the ground, left to wither now that he had torn it out. Left to die, like the memories in his heart, for there was no place for them anymore.
A first glimpse into the mind and adventures of my Rook Harea Ingellvar and why it sometimes helps to talk to friends that make you laugh again. 😊
Spoilers for Lucanis romance under the cut.
Rejection
Rook sat beside Assan on the edge of the cliff, stroking the griffon's sleek feathers as she gazed into the endless horizon of the Fade. The unnatural breeze tugged at strands of her long hair, but she didn't mind. Nor did she mind when Assan began to nip at one of the loose strands, his beak tugging gently.
The moment in the pantry played over and over in her mind. His face close to hers, his eyes lingering so clearly on her lips. The way her heart had leapt when he'd put his hand against the wall. His words had drawn her out, excited her, encouraged her to flirt - not her usual lighthearted banter, but something deliberate, something bolder. She felt her cheeks heating up again as she remembered the warmth beneath her finger.
She still couldn't believe she'd done it - let alone thought it was a good idea. Not that she'd been thinking at all at that moment. Yet, despite her hopes, he hadn't kissed her.
Rook had been so sure he would. She'd felt it in the way he'd leaned down, in that moment before she'd closed her eyes. But instead he had pulled away, apologised and left her standing there, lips pursed like the fool she was. He had said he needed to collect himself, and as true as that was - especially for him - it still hurt more than she had thought.
Of course he wasn't interested in her like that. Of course he didn't have a head for... whatever she'd thought that might be.
Maker, he'd just learned that there was the possibility that his cousin had betrayed him. And Spite's continued interference only made things worse.
"I'm an idiot," she murmured, burying her face in her knees. It was so embarrassing, she would have laughed if it hadn't hurt so much.
The click of Assan's tongue interrupted her, sharp and deliberate. She shook her head and reached up to scratch his beak. "A friend would strongly disagree with such a statement..." she muttered. But the ache wouldn't go away, even when she tried to rationalise her thoughts. She had no right to feel this way. No right to expect anything, especially from him.
"Rook?" The voice startled her and she looked up, turning to see Lace standing a few paces away. She must have been heading for the kitchen. "Are you all right?”
Rook's mouth opened, instinctively ready to brush it away, to tell Lace that all was well. But the words didn't come. The lump in her throat tightened before she could stop herself, the tears spilling over. Lace's eyes widened in surprise as Rook turned away, burying her face in her hands. Lace stepped forward and placed a hand on Rook's shoulder.
"I'm sorry... I'm fine... It's just..." Harea's voice wavered as she tried to reassure Lace, but the words faltered. She bit her lip hard, clinging to the small sting to keep the sob lodged in her throat from escaping. She couldn't even tell herself why the tears were coming - maybe it was everything at once. The frustration, the endless weight of expectations, the impossible role she was supposed to live up to. Maybe this rejection was just too much...
"Come, let's get you inside." Lace said in her soft voice and Rook nodded, stumbling to her feet and following her friend towards the greenhouse. Assan, ever curious and unwilling to be left behind, followed. He moved with an unusual calm, his usual playfulness replaced by a quiet awareness - proving to be far more perceptive than Davrin would ever give him credit for.
___
As Rook sank into the familiar chair near Lace's bedroll, she pulled her knees up again. Her eyes were still wet with tears, but the short walk from the courtyard indoors had been enough of a distraction to help her regain control. The griffon settled down beside the armchair, his head resting heavily on the armrest. Rook's fingers found its feathers again, scratching the point between its ears. Only then did she look up - and saw Taash. The dragon hunter had been kneeling quietly by one of the flower beds across the room, and Rook hadn't noticed their presence when she'd entered.
"Why are you crying?" Taash's tone was brisk and Rook quickly rubbed her cheeks.
"I'm not... I'm fine."
"You don't look fine to me. Did Spite do something? I knew I shouldn't have left you alone with him." Taash stood up, wiped their hands on their trousers and walked over to Lace's bedroll and sat down cross-legged.
"Here." Lace had used the short moments until Rook had settled down to pour her a cup of tea.
Rook took the cup from Lace's hand and smiled at her. "Thank you... you really don't need..." but Lace interrupted Rook before she could finish.
"Oh, none of that, Rook. I know you. What happened?"
Rook took a shaky breath. "It wasn't Spite." Taash relaxed a little at that reassurance. Lace tilted her head as she sat down beside Taash, leaning against them.
"After I sent Taash away, I spoke to Spite. He seemed angry with Lucanis, but before he could explain exactly why, Lucanis regained control."
The dwarf nodded thoughtfully, while Taash let out a low grunt. Spite's impulsive behaviour was nothing new to any of them, but it always managed to leave a lingering tension in the air. She took a sip of tea to prolong the pause. "He apologised, and then he said..." Her grip on the cup tightened. "He said he didn't want me to see him like that again. I'm sure he still feels bad about what happened at the Chantry in Treviso."
Lace frowned, leaning forward slightly, her expression carefully neutral. "What did you say?"
"I told him I hadn't seen anything that bothered me. That I wasn't afraid of Spite or him. I mean, why should I be? I've been around ghosts in the necropolis all my life. Spite isn't the worst thing I've seen, not by a long shot.”
Taash shifted slightly, always a bit uncomfortable when reminded that Rook was a Mournwatcher. Rook took another sip of tea. "The conversation shifted... it got more personal somehow," she said then, looking down at the reflection in the tea.
Lace leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing with interest. "How personal are we getting, Rook?"
Rook's grip tightened around the mug as heat rose to her cheeks, betraying her embarrassment. "I don't know," she murmured, still not meeting their gaze. "He just... he changed. He started saying things - about how I was breaking through his clouds of doom, how I shouldn't have to deal with his mess."
"That sounds like Lucanis," Lace replied dryly.
Taash snorted, though they didn't look entirely amused. "He said that to you? That you shouldn't bother with his mess?"
Rook nodded, her voice quieter now. "Yes. And I told him... I told him that he's more than the mess he's going through. That it didn't bother me.”
There was a beat of silence.
"And then?" Rook could hear the smile on Lace's face.
Rook looked up at last, her cheeks darkening. "Then he... came closer. Put his hand against the wall next to my head, actually."
Taash's brow shot up. "He what?"
"It wasn't... it wasn't what you think," Rook said quickly, holding up a hand. "He said it wasn't a good idea, and I..." She hesitated, biting her lip.
"Go on. Don't leave us hanging."
Rook sighed and briefly covered her face with a hand as she leaned back in the chair, her voice barely above a murmur. "I told him sometimes bad ideas are better."
She was grateful to have someone to talk to - even if at that moment she wished the Fade would just swallow her whole.
Lace's laughter erupted immediately, loud and uninhibited. "Maker's breath, Rook."
Rook groaned, putting down her tea and burying her face in her hands. "I know. It's terrible..."
Taash grinned from ear to ear and leaned forward. "And then what happened?"
Rook shook her head, her voice softening. "Lucanis said something about me walking too close to the edge... and then he smiled at me."
The memory caught in her throat and she hesitated. "And I... I told him, 'So do you.' And then..." She winced, as if saying it out loud might somehow make it worse. "I reached out and ran my finger up his chest."
Lace leaned forward, her grin - worse than when she had a bloody good hand in Wicked Grace. "You traced your finger up his chest... and told him bad ideas were better?"
Rook groaned, snapping her head up to glare at her. "I wasn't thinking, okay? You didn't see that damn smile or heard his voice…"
The two exchanged glances, barely containing their laughter.
Rook rolled her eyes and sank back into her seat. "It doesn't matter anyway. I thought we were going to kiss, and then... he turned away. Said he needed to clear his head and left."
Taash stared at Rook with surprise that turned into disappointment, murmuring something under their breath that sounded like ‘coward’.
Lace's smile faded too, her expression turning wry. "So that's why I found you crying out there?”
"And so what?" Rook shot back, though there was no real bite in her voice. "You tease me endlessly when I flirt without meaning to. This time I did it on purpose - and he ran. So much for Varric's grand claim that my charm is irresistible when I really try. Of course I am not happy."
Taash and Lace exchanged glances, matching grins spreading across their faces. Rook let out a loud moan and buried her face in her hands. "Why are you grinning now?"
"Because you're you," Taash replied with a casual shrug, as if the answer were obvious.
Lace leaned forward and grinned. "Caring, fearless, a little reckless, and charming without even trying. Of course he ran away. He's not equipped to deal with someone like you."
Taash snorted and grinned even wider. "Honestly, I'd pay gold to see his face when you touched him like that. I bet his brain just... stopped. Completely."
Harea peered through her fingers and gave them both a half-hearted look. "That's not helping."
"Oh, we're helping, you've stopped crying.” Lace said cheerfully, lifting her cup.
"Still, what did you expect him to do? Someone with a demon in their head isn't exactly the picture of emotional stability."
"I didn't expect anything," Rook said, dropping her hands to her lap. Her voice softened as she reached for the cup again. She considered her next words for a moment. "It just felt... right. For a moment. And then he left, and now I feel ridiculous.”
Lace tilted her head, watching Rook closely. "You're not ridiculous, Rook. You're just... braver than most when it comes to showing how you feel."
Rook half smiled, but remained silent for a long moment. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. He made himself clear." She shrugged weakly, as if to convince herself. "I'm not going to do anything else. I'm not... chasing after him. I don't need things to get more awkward."
Taash nodded. "Agreed. You've got better things to do anyway. Like killing gods and chasing dragons. Speaking of which - are you ready for tomorrow?"
Rook nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "I'm always ready."
"Good," Taash replied with a grin. "Because dragons don't get overwhelmed by little flirty elves and run away."
Lace chuckled and Rook groaned, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Maybe I'll just let you hunt the dragon alone and hope it eats you both."
"You'd miss us," Harding teased with a knowing grin.
Rook shook her head in mock annoyance, though her smile remained. "True."
Assan, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, let out a squeak, as if to add his own laughter to the mix.
this is my mini series for my Rook Lucielle (she/her) and Lucanis exploring how they are bonding over similar trauma and a shared hot drink after midnight
part 1 takes place one night not late after Lucanis joined the lighthouse
spoiler warning for Lucanis' romance and story lore in general
tw/cw: slight mentions of trauma, ptsd and nightmares, and the usual inner struggles of two broken souls
word count: ~1.8k
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
my Rook | DATV Masterlist | Main Navigation
It was one of those restless nights, Rook called her own, especially for the past weeks. A good amount of sleep was simply never on the menu. So she sat up, rubbed her temples and looked into the reflection in the glass wall right in front of her. Her auburn hair was more stubborn than ever. A finger traced the dark circles and a pitiful scoff left her as a little fish swirled around the miserable image, almost mockingly. Grabbing her shirt, throwing it over and grabbing a jar from her nightstand, her body moved on its own and guided her through their shelter. She was living in the main building nearly on her own. All of her companions chose a different safe space, which wasn’t a bad thing per se. Rook was always the type to withdraw as soon as her mind played those awful jokes, the distance to her team made it easier. Varric was the only one, still laying in the infirmary, who could take notice of Rook's restless pacing after hours of miserable sleep, but after spending a year on the road together he was already used to it so she didn't care. But the others? Rook had to fill in big shoes after Varric’s accident, so she needed to be professional and well collected all the time. She couldn’t let the others and him down.
The bright lights in contrast to the dim light of her room made her eyes squeeze as soon as she left the building. Ever since they unwillingly moved into the lighthouse, she tried to understand that place, but all that magic and fade stuff made her suspicious. The continuous twilight zone made it hard to keep track of time. This place simply was so awkward, but what stressed her the most were the countless fights she had to manage. The guilt on her shoulders that two ancient elven gods are trying to blight the world, the haunting images of her past, the what-ifs and on top of it all, a very pride and edgy elf that crept into her dreams and mind as soon as she tried to rest. All those battles gave her nothing but nightmares, and led her to a specific place: The kitchen.
By complete muscle memory she moved to the stove and put the kettle on, fumbled with the glass jar filled with dry herbs. Harding had made this compound as soon as she learned of Rook’s troubles, the perfect tea mixture to help her fall back asleep. Rook couldn’t remember in detail what was in it, but there was definitely a huge amount of baldrian, lavender and chamomile. The smell was to get used to, but it already was relaxing to just inhale its familiar scent.
Again her body moved on its own and reached for the jar with honey, and for the mug. As soon as she found the usual spot of the mug empty, she snapped out of her brain fog and her brows furrowed. “That’s curious…” Rook said to herself. Her gaze wandered through the open space. The shelf that originally contained all their mugs was filled with other jars full of herbs. Usually, Neve would clean all the dishes after dinner and Bellara would place all their mugs exactly on said shelf. Never has she seen those jars. Her gaze wandered through the other organizers. Everything seemed to be slightly different. Rook narrowed her eyes as she inspected a specific container sitting right next to the stove.
“Need help?” a husky voice made its way to her ears. In an instant, she grabbed the nearest knife a bit too tightly as she felt a tension running through her muscles. Her posture was stiff but prepared for the worst. In front of her stood the man they just saved from an underwater prison. Hands raised in defense but a challenging glance in his dark eyes.
As soon as she realized who it was, her posture relaxed the slightest. “Sorry.” She put the knife back where she got it. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
Lucanis leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, but his stance was slightly too rigid, as if even in a familiar place like this, he couldn't fully relax. The seconds stretched between them, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the soft simmer of the kettle before his voice was heard again. “Comes with the job.”
“Of course.” Just now it crossed her mind, and she looked a bit guilty at him. “Did I wake you?” With no means did Rook think about Lucanis setting up his ‘room’ in the pantry. Even when Bellara had mentioned it on their latest trip to Arlathan forest, she already forgot about it.
The assassin declined with a simple gesture of his hand. Rook wanted to intervene just when the sound of the kettle attracted both of their attention for a second. Lucanis went to the shelf and grabbed a mug for her, and one for himself, so he could prepare another cup of coffee.
With a raised brow she watched the man preparing the beverage with the highest finesse. It almost looked like art, not like brewing a cup of coffee. Meanwhile she looked into her cup, a spoonful of honey and some herbs thrown in, but well, it did the job. “You are staring.” He scoffed while not averting his gaze.
“Never saw someone putting so much effort into coffee…” She said while pouring the hot water into her mug, before standing behind her new companion. A clear distance between both of them. The room mixed with the smells of freshly grounded beans and the different herbs.
“Beh…then you simply never saw someone doing it the right way.” The crow simply stated, a little proud smile tugging at his lips as he gave his cup the last well trained swirl with his wrist. He can’t imagine how he survived this year without his favourite drink. His eyes darted to her cup, the heavy scent of her tea still flooding his nostrils and a deep, satisfied breath escaped his lungs as he took the first sip of his.
“Smells. Different.” Spite stated. “Lavender. Honey. Chamomile.” But Lucanis tried to ignore him, inhaling the steam of his beloved brew. Still, the other scent was so present he couldn’t ignore it.
Rook watched him cautious, the warm mug in her hands almost too comforting. She took a slow sip, closed her eyes, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade. But Lucanis’ presence on the opposite of her—so close, so silent—kept her from fully relaxing. She could almost imagine the weight of his eyes on her. That’s why she opened hers again and directly looked into his dark brooding ones. They met for a split second and it let her mind wonder again. In this very moment it was like she’d look into her reflection again. Exhaustion clung to the deep circles under his tired eyes. Heavy shoulders, and a never stopping mind was hidden behind those dark orbs, and before she’d say a wrong thing, she averted her gaze back to her mug. Why did he feel so familiar? Why did she suddenly feel so defenseless? Her mind still flashing her the images of mere seconds before. Why does he make me feel this way? Is it just the exhaustion, or is there something in his eyes that’s pulling at something buried deep inside me? Pull yourself together…
It was his voice that dragged her out of her thoughts. “Troubles sleeping?” Despite his calm tone, there was a faint edge in his voice that made her hesitate before answering. Lucanis took a quick sharp breath right after. Mierda. Why ask the obvious? He should know better than dig into the privacy of his new client, coworker, whatever. He immediately regretted it, but the question hung in the air, heavy with something unspoken.
“Asked the guy that should rather be asleep right now.” She smiled, but it was tight, her thoughts buzzing with uncertainty: Why did he have to be here now? This was supposed to be a quiet moment, not another conversation with someone who didn’t even know her—yet somehow, seemed to understand too much. Her mind was racing again while taking another well earned sip of her tea. Letting the brew warm her from the inside and a small yawn escaped her. She leaned against the counter behind her, as she saw the fleeting moment of regret washing over his face she declined with her hand before massaging her temple again. “Try to sleep when there's a nagging elf constantly giving cryptic advice and watching every part of your mind.” Her golden eyes searched for his again, and she looked into a face completely lost in thought. Another inhale. Stupid, Rook Think before you talk. She told herself. “Ir abelas.” [I am sorry] He suffered as much as her, she saw that. Having someone living rent-free in your mind, he understood better than anyone. “Neve already told me… I should think twice before speaking.” A pathetic laugh left her, before she decided to rather drink in silence. Does he judge me now? Everyone does… her heavy eyes clung to the liquid she swirled around in her cup.
Lucanis was a bit taken aback from her behaviour. She was so understanding on a different level, so close yet so far. “Let. Me. Talk. To. Her.” Spite once more demanded. “Let. Me. TALK. TO. ROOK.” Ignoring the demon made it only worse, but he didn't want to make it worse for her. “I think we both should get some rest.” He looked in the direction of the exit out of this situation. There was nothing but silence hanging in the air. After the silence weighed too much, he slowly parted his lips to add, but she interrupted him.
“Yeah…you’re right.” Rook turned on her heel and aimed for the door. “On nydha. Son era.” [Good night. Sleep well]
Lucanis turned around once more. His gaze lingered on her, and for a moment, he caught a flicker of something—maybe understanding, maybe something else. She quickly walked away, but not before his heart skipped a beat. It felt like he saw her more clearly than she was ready for. Maybe that’s why it felt wrong to let her go, no, to chase her out like that, Spite’s complaints met deaf ears, Lucanis was swallowed up by his thoughts about this little midnight meeting. For a brief moment, he wondered if she'd leave with the same weight she carried in when she first entered, but before he could find an answer, it was already time to prepare for the next day and that would start with a good breakfast. But one thing was sure, the scent of lavender and chamomile wouldn't leave his mind any time soon.
mid spoilers for character traits during the story of Veilguard beneath the cut
Lucielle | DATV Masterlist | Main Navigation
Lucielle had a weird habit, due to her past.
She never was allowed to have good things. She was a slave, and her kind weren’t allowed to own something. The Taipans made sure to take everyone and everything from her in the most cruel way someone could imagine. The only thing she was allowed to keep was a single carmine diamond. Marcil, her father - well we don’t call him like that anymore - her former owner gave it to her. He gifted it to her as a reminder of how precious she was to him. That diamond was the most valuable jewel in his collection. It should remind her that something so beautiful could also be so dangerous, capable of destroying everything. Destruction out of envy, out of greed, out of despair, out of love. Lucielle was taught many ways, she was just like that bloody diamond and Marcil did remind her of that every day.
She didn't mind it, but she soon learned that there were so many more pretty jewels with such deep meanings hidden beneath the shiny surface. Especially as she started traveling with Varric and Lace, she learned that people could truly be like gems, and she began collecting pretty rocks. Rocks that reminded her of her companions, because these people were more precious than any gemstone on the planet.
Just like that, Lucielle collected a variety of pretty gems to associate with her coworkers, then friends and now family and she finally learned that she is nothing like that diamond.
promotes personal growth and healing and to let go of the past
known to magnify energies, whether good or bad
handling feelings of depression and anxiety
balancing emotions and providing emotional stability during challenging times
encourages self-acceptance, boosts self-confidence, and promotes positive self-image
providing the strength and courage to overcome challenges
enhance spiritual growth and deepen one's connection with inner self
introverted individuals made out of passion and perseverance
signifies serenity, clarity, and understanding
possess peaceful, bright, and wise personalities
profound perspective and understand life changes
meaning of tranquility and calmness in the spirit
a soothing and balancing nature
put heads together with persistence and empathetic nature, always loyal
strength, protection and grounding energy
enhance one's ability to handle difficult situations to protect loved ones
offer safe passage during storms
act as an antidote to poison
carries the significance of intellect and seeking the truth
brings loyalty and help to overcome emotional trauma to build trust again
bring peace and balance to the spirit
represents passion, vitality and energy
possess lively, creative, and decisive personalities
associated with self-discovery, intuition, and the awakening of one's inner spirit
promoting a safe and grounded existence
enhance self-awareness and to navigate through life changes
helps reveal and heal emotional pain
bringing ease during times of change and transition
gives the insight needed for personal growth.
assist in the manifestation of the heart's desire
tricks into overcoming fears and anxieties
wants to shield and protect its loved ones at all costs
encourages strength and leadership qualities
inspires creativity and brings a dash of added sparkle
Heavy spoilers for endgame following, you have been warned:
After the ancient gods are defeated, after the veil is secured, and the heroes of the Veilguard finally rest, Lucielle took two gems from her collection and put them into a simple necklace, so she would always keep her two favorite dwarves close to her heart.
little hc for when Lucanis decided he wants to make Rook a Dellamorte
heavy spoiler warning
word count: ~700
warnings: typical crow things slightly mentioned
used they/them for Rook
The demon of Vyrantium, first Talon, slayer of Ghilan’nain, hero of the Veilguard - Lucanis hold many names, but one of them was Catarina Dellamortes favourite.
She is a strict and prideful woman, who led the antivan crows by respect and cruelty. A way to prepare especially her two grandsons for the burden life would bring as a crow and to ensure her heir (and their survival but that would be a bit too sentimental to speak out loud).
Lucanis always had the feeling that nothing he could do would be enough to please her. Nothing would live up to her legacy, no matter how hard he tried. But indeed, it was her, who thought nothing could ever be enough for him. Nothing would satisfy her when it came to Lucanis. She lost almost all of her children and grandchildren, of course she was protective of Lucanis and Illario in her very own way, which leads us to the following situation.
The world is saved, Rook and Lucanis finally spoke about their feelings (like really admitting everything after the weight of the world's fate lifted from their shoulders and they could finally take a long needed nap), but Lucanis knew that it won’t get easier. He thinks of himself as a complicated and dangerous man with an even more complicated and dangerous life and yet Rook did nothing but accept everything and stayed by his side. He knew, if they’d let him, he would take their hand in marriage straight away but there is one thing holding him back (and it’s definitely not Spite).
Catarina’s approval.
He barely received approval, even for the simplest matters, but choosing his life long partner as the now first talon…
Now imagine Lucanis who is sure he’d never find someone like Rook again, and he would never want to even try, not after he had almost lost them. Rook, a person that would share everything with him, and would still loot at him like he’s the most precious thing they have ever seen, because that’s exactly how he looks at them. Spite who clings onto them like a lifeline. Both of them who fell in love like the very first second they got them out of the Ossuary. Despite all the risks and dangers (Let's be honest, being the partner of the first Talon, people would definitely try to use Rook against him), he wants to make it official. So when Lucanis asks his grandmother for a coffee at Pietra’s he’s sure she will decline his request, but he will try. He will show Catarina how important Rook is to him. So they sit down, have their usual check up and formalities and before Lucanis can even ask her, before he can start his literal powerpoint on why Rook would be the perfect addition to the Dellamorte house, Catarina does nothing but pull the opal ring of his mother out, the ring she had once given to show her favor, and hand it him. The usual thin line of her lips slightly curved up. You could almost misinterpret it as a smile, and Lucanis takes the ring with the highest gratitude he felt in a while. The weight of his shoulders was gone. “Grazie mille” is all he can say and Catarina nods. She knew from the very first beginning that Rook could be enough. Not because of them being slayer of Elgar’nan, not because of them choosing Treviso over their own city (my rook was a shadow dragon), not because of them putting together the Veilguard, not because of their strength, not because they saved the freakin’ world. No, simply because they saved her grandson in so many ways possible. She sees how Lucanis lights up as soon as Rook walks into the room and she’s once reminded how it felt to be truly in love, to feel like nothing else matters but the person in front of you. How could she not approve the happiness of her favourite, when it could be so easy.
I play along with the life signs anyway, but I hope to God you don't know this feeling. Yet, in reverse, you are all my symmetry. A parallel I would lay my life on.
So if your wings won't find you, Heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone. Call me when you have the time. I just need to leave this part of me behind.
Euclid by Sleep Token | Main Navigation | DATV Masterlist
Simple facts and backround:
[CW/TW: abuse, slavery, trauma, ptsd, violence]
Shadow Dragon warrior
is not good with words, prefers actions
former slave, property of the Taipans
in her late 20s
Lucanis romancer
the Taipans is an organised slave syndicate who hunts down elven clans to murder the older ones and kidnap the younglings to shape them into perfect slaves with only two purposes: to satisfy humans or to kill them
Lucielle was taken when she still was a baby and was raised by Marcil, the "father" of the syndicate
the Taipans marked their slaves with a scar in the shape of a snake (a taipan), the bigger the mark, the more important/expensive the goods (never did they mark their face)
Lucielle wears the mark over her whole upper body, up to her neck and her arm, she always tries to hide it, she tries to avoid her own reflection
does not know anything about the Dalish, everything she knows she was taught by the masters to be "authentic"
was always forced to have long hair, to wear the perfect makeup, a slight endearing smile, and never got any wounds in her perfect face, which would lower her price
sleep paralysis, nightmares, and panic attacks
had an elvish name, but it was taken from her, just like her siblings (she can't remember both because she was too young)
the Taipans gave all slaves common names, so I'd be easier for clients to make their pick
does hate how her name sounds due to all the people abusing her, so she later went by Rook
can be very short tempered when it comes to slavery, and acting against someone's will, like forcing someone to do something
a rook would sit near her window every dawn and it could fly into freedom at any given time, she would have loved to just fly away
was freed by accident by a client and a crow
that's why she disgusts/fears any form of magic, especially blood magic and necromancy
nothing ever felt like home to her, not even her place in Docktown while working with/for the Dragons
Overthinker
loves to collect gemstones and associate them with people she knows
Feeling as though Rook is secondary to Neve? You shouldn’t, not really at least because Rook is irreplaceable for the same reasons people are holding animosity towards Neve.
‘Neve gets him without doing any of the hard work.’ Rook is the only person alive who could even be able to. That’s the whole point.
Saving Minrathous results in the Inner Demons quest never happening.
Meaning an unhealed Lucanis never makes peace with Spite.
Meaning he goes on to enter a relationship with a woman (to no fault of her own) who could never, and would never, force him to face his fears and give him the unyielding encouragement needed to live without compartmentalizing every important thing to ever happen to him.
Without Rook completing that quest— Lucanis remains chained down by his debilitating fear of disappointing Caterina, the shame of being made into an abomination against his will, the guilt of being the one who got off easier than Neve and the pain and anger Illario’s betrayal brought onto him.
“Thoughts live here. Ideas. Feelings.” Disappointment. Shame. Guilt. Betrayal. All of which Lucanis felt were too big, too messy to face.
Solavellan is Rookanis’ foil. Except Rook is if Lavellan had succeeded in persuading Solas to face his regrets.
And what was the crux of the replacement Fade prison Solas crafted for the Evanuris? It was a prison built on regret, and the only way to leave would be to face them. Which Ghilan’nan and Elgar’nan would never be able to do.
Spite says “Lucanis is here. Behind locked doors. I can’t break through.” But Rook can.
In his mind’s eye, Lucanis makes Caterina, Harding, Neve and Illario his jailers of negative emotions in a prison of his own creation.
And in all that inner turmoil, his idea of Illario says, “Rook, you’re too good to be here.”
Rook isn’t one of his jailers, not because they don’t matter enough compared to the others, but because Lucanis’ thoughts, ideas and feelings for Rook are too good.
Rook opens doors, they’re not a jailer who throws away the key. In Lucanis and Spite’s eyes, Rook is the key. They are a liberator, a hero, the only one he’ll listen to.
Love, understanding, the unwavering promise of companionship (platonic or romantic) despite the risk to themselves sets Lucanis free.
I’ve seen people who are disappointed in his storyline complain that it feels as though ‘Rook strong arms him into a committed relationship’ that he somehow ‘feels obligated to indulge’ and engage in as a result of saving Treviso. I believe these claims just end up ignoring the really good diamonds in the rough we’re given in terms of Rookanis relationship development.
A romanced!Lucanis gives way to lines like “I don’t know what Rook sees in me. I’m happy to just be around them.”
And paralleling scenes like when Caterina chastises a kneeling Illario with “A Dellamorte never kneels.” Only for Lucanis to later walk over to a post-Fade trapped Rook and literally kneel at their feet like they’re the only deity he cares to worship like this is Take Me To Church by Hozier.
And what is Rookanis as a ship, if not Rook teaching him it’s okay to assert himself, which leads to Lucanis reclaiming his humanity through an act of love? Just saying. Given time, and love, he turns into a Gomez Addams sort of romantic figure.
If Rook were associated as any feeling to Lucanis then they’d be love. Affection. A state of understanding. Purpose? Freedom?
Better yet, Rook could be determination. After all, Rook’s defining characteristic is that they ‘just can’t seem to quit’— in the face of the man they care about saying ‘give up on me, i’m damaged goods’ why wouldn’t they win him over in the end?
“If I’m disturbing you, I can come back,” Lucanis said quietly, his voice almost tentative.
Rook looked up from the book she had been staring at, the same page mocking her with unread words. “No, stay,” she replied, a smile breaking through the frustration on her face. “I’ve read this last page at least three times now and still have no idea what’s happening.”
Lucanis’s eyebrow lifted slightly. “Distracted?” he asked, a hint of concern threading his tone.
She sighed, closing the book. “With everything. It’s hard to enjoy even a simple moment of reading when everything feels so uncertain. But you’re here now.” Her smile softened, and she gestured to the space beside her. “You can distract me from the book I was trying to distract myself with. Please, sit with me.”
Lucanis hesitated for a heartbeat before moving closer. Rook noticed then that he was holding something wrapped in cloth, and her curiosity piqued.
“When we went to the market in Treviso a few days ago,” he began, a touch of nervousness colouring his usually steady voice, “I realised I’d gotten everyone something to make this transition easier as we adjust to our… new normal. But I hadn’t gotten you anything, and I wanted to correct that.”
“Lucanis, you didn’t need to—” she started, but he interrupted her gently.
“No,” he said, meeting her eyes, “I wanted to. I spoke to my blacksmith and had something made for you. I know you’re a formidable mage, but I thought this might be useful when the fight gets… too close for comfort.”
He held out the cloth-wrapped bundle, and Rook took it, her fingers brushing his. Lucanis’s hands were uncharacteristically tense, and she could feel the weight of the moment as he watched her, his dark eyes shadowed with a vulnerability he couldn’t quite hide.
The last time he’d tried to gift a blade, it had been ignored. The memory still stung, and now he found himself risking that same hurt, that same feeling of indifference.
Rook carefully untied the simple knots, the cloth falling away to reveal a small, finely crafted dirk. The blade glinted in the dim light, and the hilt was decorated with an elegant crow motif, the craftsmanship exquisite. She turned it in her hands, testing its balance, marvelling at the way it felt both sturdy and graceful.
“Oh, Lucanis,” she breathed, awe colouring her voice. “This is a beautiful blade.” She paused, “I could strap it to my boot, maybe? Or I’m not sure where I would—”
“No,” he interrupted, his voice firmer now. “On your right hip. Blade facing forward.”
Rook nodded, understanding the practicality behind his suggestion. “Understood.” Her eyes met his, and they softened with gratitude. “Thank you. I haven’t had anyone gift me something in years. It’s beautiful, and I love the design on the hilt. Your blacksmith is a talented man. I don’t know how to thank you for such a thoughtful gift.”
Lucanis swallowed his throat tight. “Stay alive."
Rook smiled and relief washed over him, flooding through his veins. She had noticed his gesture. She hadn’t brushed it aside or dismissed it. She had seen him. The ache of past rejection eased, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, feeling lighter than he had in years.
